Dhruv Srivastava

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2020

Stories (49)

49 Stories

1157 karma pts

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“The Longest Walk” by Dhruv Srivastava

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. Where had the time gone? It seemed not so long ago I had a friend on the Earth to assuage the darkness, to bring kindling to the winter. Now, the flakes fell in large, soft petals: ash on the field through which I trudged. Every breath shot out before me in mist, and to a younger, less unfortunate me… I would have thought of myself as a steam engine,...

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“Joy in Relent” by Dhruv Srivastava

Evan Locklear was having a fretful night of little sleep. As usual, he was in the only bedroom of his shabby house, moonlight revealing a spartan interior through broken blinds. His twin bed, far too short for his lanky frame, had a thin sheet which served as a blanket for him, and while it was perfect for the summer heat of North Carolina, the winter left him clammy and shivering. While that may have disturbed the peac...

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“Hear My Heart Burst, Again (This is the End)” by Dhruv Srivastava

This is the end. I know it in my heart, though I can hardly feel it beat within my chest. It murmurs softly against my ribcage, against soft folds of weathered skin. Where once vivacious strength and spirit had resided is now worn to destitution. Opening my eyes is hard; I remember a time when it was not - when the hues of the world were not so precious to me. I took it for granted, but of course that’s not too out of the ordinary, and now the colors I see in my mind's eye are tinged with yellowish decay. This is the end.

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“A Closet Full of Chaos” by Dhruv Srivastava

If you had wandered into James Orton’s apartment, you may not have seen the clutter at first. His front door, an elegant, clean brown door, opened into a little foyer with just enough room for his three pairs of shoes and a coat rack which held two coats. He liked having a pair of winter boots, a pair of running shoes, and a pair of walking shoes. James never went to social functions, so he didn’t need anything more for...

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“The Dragon and His Village” by Dhruv Srivastava

Somewhere within a distant mountain sat a dragon atop a pile of gold. This was not a scary dragon, with rows of razor sharp teeth and talons the size of full grown men. This dragon had claws which it could at best use to scratch the scales behind its pointy ears, and while it did have sharp teeth, it had developed a liking for vegetarian options, particularly bounties of fruits and steamed root vegetables. It liked to a...

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“Redemption in Pine Grove” by Dhruv Srivastava

There hadn’t been many long drives in the life of Marcus Bourne. In fact, prior to this day, he’d driven over an hour just once in his life. That one time had been to steal away in the middle of the night from his home. Then, there was no destination. Away was the operative word in his head. He’d stayed at four motels, witnessed a dozen drug deals at truck stops, and eaten over twenty meals and roadside fast fo...

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“Ghosts of the Night” by Dhruv Srivastava

With the strict brick walls of Winthrop manor, a slew of guests had most recently been chatting in the parlor, warm incandescent bulbs casting a yellow glow over Victorian furniture and through snifters of cognac. Laughs were sickeningly bright, following from comments such as, “Well of course John could’ve gone to Yale, but we thought it was best that he go to Harvard, like his father… Besides, we wanted him a...

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“Where the Flame Passes” by Dhruv Srivastava

“In the case of Victor Daniels, we the jury find the defendant… not guilty.” There was a moment of damning silence after these words, in which not even a gasp was dared, though everyone in the courtroom was in utter shock. Hell, as detective George Alvarez watched the defense attorney, he could’ve sworn even that man had an expression of horror on his face for half a second. Of course, the lawyers recovered ...

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“Fate of the Fateless” by Dhruv Srivastava

Not a whisper on the boots, thought Erica as her husband waved to her from the front door. Despite the blazing hot day, a scorcher even by South Carolina standards, his shirt was clean and his face just covered in a thin layer of sweat, almost like dew. Even when she kissed his slightly puffy, unshaven cheek and smiled, she saw the flicker of doubt in his blinding blue eyes - the doubt which originated from tho...

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“Eternal Dawn” by Dhruv Srivastava

As the afternoon turned to evening, Caleb noticed the clouds had thickened through the finely stenciled canopy of spruce trees. In the gathering darkness, they hovered above his campsite like massive totems, peering down at his solemn abode. The ground was littered with caramel colored pine needles mixed with white snow, half an inch deep at its worst. It was late March, and that meant it was the dominion of crows; thei...

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“The Voice of the Night” by Dhruv Srivastava

“Sorry, tell me again what happens when you turn off the lights?” A rattling breath preceded the answer. “Cold… I can’t breathe… The weight on my chest suffocates me… I can feel… the walls of my skull crushing my brain… No sleep.” An older woman in glasses scribbled a note on her pad, saying in a soft voice, “I see… And this voice you talk about-” “The voice of the night,” he interjected in a h...

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“Struck Out on a Full Count” by Dhruv Srivastava

The slender maple wood felt like the hand of an old friend between his calloused fingers, and the wear of home runs showed on the barrel. This was not his latest bat, but rather the one he’d hit his first high school single with, and the one he thought he’d take with him to Texas. The unlit stadium lights loomed like sentinels over the nearly pitch black field, and in the darkness Jeremy Davis gripped the old bat in one...

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“The Song of Death and Glory” by Dhruv Srivastava

The gentle bite of a morning spring wind came over the hill, sending gray banners fluttering like wisps of cloud bound to the earth and yearning to return to the azure sky. On this particular morning, the sun rose with clarity not seen since the autumn, though the residents of Andolens looked upon it with dull eyes, tending to their tasks with mellow movements. These people were of northern descent, so their hair was a ...

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“Love and a Fantasy” by Dhruv Srivastava

“I’ll just have a coffee and a blueberry muffin, please.” His voice was gruff, sandy at the edges and yet soft on the consonants. He brushed jet black hair onto his face to obscure his dark brown eyes from the server. She jotted his order down and smiled at him, just barely parting full lips to reveal crystalline white teeth. It was a smile which tore his mind in two. “Is that all?” Her voice was throaty and ve...

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“The Final Letter” by Dhruv Srivastava

Are you there God? It’s me, Jesus. Actually, my name is Paul, but wasn’t Paul one of Jesus’ friends - apostles, if you will? Anyway… Paul Schmidt, he is me, and I is him. I’m writing to you because I read somewhere online that if you list out all your problems in a letter to someone it helps get them off your chest. Well, I have a lot of problems, and strangely enough I seem to have them all with you, God. I have spent ...

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Author bio

Check out my website! dhruvwriting.com Ask about my novels (not yet published) - Fermented Thorns (romantic tragedy) - Puppet on a Lonely String (YA thriller) Senior chemical engineering major at RPI in Troy, NY, though I'm originally from around Boston. I try to post on here once a week, but going through engineering school, writing a book, managing a website, and uploading short stories on here is a challenge. Follow me for unique short stories, and check our my website for poems, philosophy, and reviews! Follow me on Instagram @dhruv01810. Any potential business inquiries may be directed to dhruvsrivastava.d.s@gmail.com