B. Velazquez

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2020

Stories (3)

3 Stories

52 karma pts

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“Second Chances” by B. Velazquez

Submitted to Contest #54

What meant most, I lost years ago.The chill of the early morning fog reminds me of what’s been taken away from me and the memories hurt more than they have in a while. Visions cloud my brain and buried pain throbs inside my gut. I ache.With a tight fist at my chest, I pull the brown collar of my sweater closer around my neck. With the dew, the past arrives to haunt me and I reminisce about what was ripped, never to be restored.After his death, I found solace in our quaint, cozy town. I moved under the false pretense that I would heal but sta...

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“Sweltering Summer Days” by B. Velazquez

Submitted to Contest #53

A droplet of bright-orange sweetness forms atop the curvature of the frosted treat. Dew, speckles the whitish half-frozen, half-melted exterior, then slithers down my hand. My eyes follow.In anticipation of its zesty juiciness, my mouth waters. I gulp and lick my lips before it dribbles to the ground. The pink of my tongue pokes and laps at the single strand and an explosion of rich and tart flavors erupt at the back of my expecting throat.My lids flutter.Mm.Ejecting the warm gust in my lungs, I ran the back of my hand across the beads of pe...

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“Happiest Disgrace” by B. Velazquez

Submitted to Contest #52

The panes inside the French-cased windows quivered with the rumble, and a discharge of electricity crackled. Lamps flickered, on and off, before the flashing struck. On the horizon, lavender and lime hues surrounded somber, nimbus clouds. Another bolt zapped, and sizable droplets pattered against the stained-glass, soaking the dry soil.The weather should’ve pained my soul, or made me feel gloom. Instead, the earthy, petrichor scent carried long-forgotten mementos and memories of him. The edges of my mouth lifted jauntily. Two came to mi...

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Author bio

To say I love to write is an understatement. It comes from my mother's side of the family. My grandfather loved to write and his sister was a published author. For me, it started in 8th grade with poetry. It wasn't until recently I felt my writing to be strong enough to share with the world.