Vaishnavi Venu

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020

Stories (9)

9 Stories

149 karma pts

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“Autumn leaves” by Vaishnavi Venu

I trudge back home from work, my jeans that trail across the mud with each step I take, reminding me of a snail inching towards its destination, its burdening shell weighing on its back. No wonder snails are so... slow. And people, they make fun of it. The bicycle catches on a stray stone and I stumble to get it back on balance. “And this stupid old bike,” I mutter. Kicking...

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“Unbreakable” by Vaishnavi Venu

I have vowed. I have vowed never to mix with the lowly ones; the ones who hack away at the rocks in mines to craft the beautiful pendants we wear around our necks, who break their backs so we drown in our riches, our wealth. Mine lay on my collarbone, a pastel locket that went well with my gown that cascaded to my ankles. “Fintis!” the maidservant calls me and I flinch turn...

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“Sometimes, I Wish” by Vaishnavi Venu

Babysitting Jacob is pretty exhausting, trust me. All he does is sit around in different places of the house, his fingers mindlessly double tapping away at random memes that don’t even make sense anymore. I had thought I deserved better than this. That I had left behind my old days and moved on, but still often find myself playing situations, enacting scenes in my head over and over again. I thought I ...

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“A Jog” by Vaishnavi Venu

First, I feel the blade move through skin in the most satisfying way possible, and the familiar trickle of warm blood down my hands. Then the steely stench of blood takes over as I move out of the room in calculated, practiced steps. Step over the body, through the window, and out into the darkness. I hear the sirens behind me, and smile to myself. Nothing like a good chase. Can’t help but love...

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“Goodbye.” by Vaishnavi Venu

She looks up at me her black hair dripping wet, cascading like waterfalls down her shoulder. Her eyes brim with tears as she asks pouting, “Why would you do that?” “Uh,” I start, a jug of water in my hand, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “ It was just a prank,” I say. I hear the door slam open, revealing a very crossed mom. “Priya, you’re the big sister! How could you this to your sister?!” she yells, yanking the water jug from me. “But it was just a prank-“ I start, but the door closes. “Look at that,” I say, plopping ...

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“Oh, can a bystander’s story ever be told?” by Vaishnavi Venu

There’s pretty much nothing exciting going on in my life, being one of the many characters in a writers head. I get up, brush, eat, dress and get ready for work. As I grab my keys and head out the front door, I try to ignore my incomplete novel lying on the table, its empty pages staring accusingly at me in silence.Sighing, I bustle out the front door onto the footpath, coffee cup in one hand and my office bag in the other. I was getting late for work, I think. Suddenly the protagonist of the story brushes past me, hurryin...

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“ Unfamiliar poverty” by Vaishnavi Venu

As I run through the dusty lanes on my way back home from school, which feels heavier I don’t know, my heart or the bag on my shoulders, as I think of the trouble I would get into. I knew that my parents wouldn’t believe a word of mine. Finally, panting, I knock twice on the door as it creaks open, hoping I wasn’t in too much trouble. Mom stands in the doorway crossed, hands on her hips. Oh yes I am, I think.“Where in the world were you, Aditi ?!” she asks. “Mom, I had extra classes-” I start exasperatedly, only to be cut ...

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“Lucky me” by Vaishnavi Venu

I sit there on the dusty ground in my torn jeans, trying to ignore the atrocity of the world I was in. “Ira! Ira!” I hear my little sister Mirai calling out my name from the distance. Right in time for lunch, I think. “What’d you manage to get?” I ask her, pulling the torn mat out for both of us to sit. “A whole, hot loaf of bread!!” she says, her eyes lighting up. I almost cried. “Really?! Show!” I say, leaning in and inhaling the rich, delicious aroma from the bread that makes my mouth water.We sit there, chewing the bre...

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“A Dog At The Door” by Vaishnavi Venu

I lift my pen to write, but my mind is blank. And so I stop, my hand dropping down in defeat. I was diagnosed with depression... one of my friends recommended getting a therapist, or a pet at least but I can’t afford either of those. I was back home after a tiring day at work, settled in my favourite place by the window sill, a book in hand, legs dangling lazily. I peer out my open window, at the window opposite to mine, wondering who lived there. It was a favourite pastime of mine. Thinking, musing about ...

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