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Vera N

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2024

Stories (111)

Comments

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22 Followers

36 Following

111 Stories

464 karma pts

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Where The Road Bends

Vera N

At the intersection, I could turn right and be home by nightfall — warm bed, unread emails, a life I’d stitched back together piece by piece.But turning left would take me somewhere I’d promised never to return.The blinker clicked like a metronome to my hesitation. A hawk coasted overhead, silhouetted against the burning sky. Cicadas screamed in the trees. The air smelled like dust and memory.It had been ten years since I last saw Elmridge. Ten years since I threw a duffel into the back seat and drove off without saying goodbye — not to Jona...

3 likes

Memory's Edge

Vera N

It wasn’t the silence that told me I was lost—it was how familiar everything felt when it absolutely shouldn’t have.I opened my eyes to a ceiling that looked like peeling skin, pale pink and warped with age. The light above me flickered—not a sharp flicker, but the tired twitch of a dying bulb. It buzzed like something whispering through grit, or maybe my nerves.I sat up slowly. My muscles ached in that strange way you feel after crying for hours, though I didn’t remember shedding a single tear. The bed creaked beneath me—flannel sheets, pur...

1 like

Midnight's Unseen City

Vera N

Every night at 11:13 p.m., the light in Elias Vant’s attic blinked on—and the city held its breath. The glow was soft, amber, and steady. From the cracked sidewalk across the street, it looked like a beacon. To some, it was just a quirk of an old man with strange hours. To others, it was a signal—an open eye watching from above. No one had seen Elias in daylight for years. His groceries arrived at his door without interaction. Deliveries vanished from the stoop within minutes. Even the mail carrier walked faster past the house on Welby Stree...

1 like

The Silence Between Sentences

Vera N

Claire Jensen stared at the blinking cursor on her laptop screen like it was taunting her. The white page glared back, bright as judgment. Her fingers hovered above the keys, but the thoughts dissolved the second she tried to shape them into sentences. She sat hunched in the corner of the café, hoodie sleeves stretched over her hands, a lukewarm coffee dying beside her. She couldn’t afford another one. She probably shouldn’t have bought the first. She still had two freelance pieces due that would barely cover her half of rent, but this was h...

1 like

A Match In The Powder Room

Vera N

The red countdown hit 02:59:59 as Maya Carter burst into the war room, coat dripping with rain, pulse pounding like a war drum. A storm lit up the Geneva skyline behind her, flashes of lightning mirrored in the sheen of the polished steel walls.The encrypted message waited on her terminal.OPERATION: ASHFALL Status: GREEN Strike Time: 03:00 CEST Target Zone: Grid 14-B, Northern Line Objective: Tunnel Collapse, Covert Interdiction Collateral Acceptable: YESMaya’s eyes scanned the mission summary, bile rising in her throat.They’re going to coll...

1 like

Cracks and Creations

Vera N

Golden sunlight poured through the towering west-facing windows of The Clay Hearth, a modest but magnetic pottery studio nestled between a vintage bookstore and a florist dripping in ivy on Maple Row. Inside, the scent of damp clay clung to the air, laced with a hint of lavender and kiln smoke. Dust motes drifted like enchanted snowflakes, catching light as they danced through the open beams. Shelves bowed under the weight of eccentric student projects: teetering vases, bowls with bold, defiant shapes, and mugs whose handles curled like slee...

1 like

A Voice Beyond The Storm

Vera N

Submitted to Contest #303

Late Autumn, 1987 — Coastal MaineBy day, the ocean mist crept up the harbor streets like a memory you couldn’t outrun. It clung to the weather-beaten docks and rusted chains, wrapping everything in a salty chill that seeped deep into your bones. By night, the foghorn sang through the dark like a warning no one listened to—low and mournful, cutting through the thick damp air, a lonely echo in a town that had long since forgotten how to dream.My name’s Mara Harlan. Boat mechanic. Part-time salvage diver. Daughter to a man who vanished into a l...

13 likes

Between Yesterday and Goodbye

Vera N

The last time Sam saw Grandpa Ray, the old man lay still beneath a quilt stitched with red cardinals and faded army patches. His hands were paper-thin and mottled. His voice had gone two days before, but his eyes still flickered when Sam, now twenty-five, leaned close and whispered, “I’ll fix it, okay?”There was a quiet desperation in that glance — like Grandpa was passing on more than just a goodbye. Like he was leaving Sam a burden wrapped in hope. Sam swallowed hard, knowing this wasn’t just about machines or memories. It was something he...

1 like

Drip, Drip, Gone

Vera N

Leah Carter wasn’t the kind of girl people noticed. She liked it that way. Quiet corners, oversized hoodies, and earbuds in—those were her shields from a world that never seemed to understand her. Her locker, 213, was one of the few consistent things in her life. Far from the bustling main halls of Crestwood High, it sat tucked between two support pillars in the neglected west wing—a hallway that smelled faintly of mold and old paint. She liked it there. Nobody bothered her. Until Tuesday. She arrived early, like always, slipping down the si...

0 likes

The Festival of Second Chances

Vera N

Dani had always been the type to take risks. They weren’t reckless—just adventurous, always searching for the next thrill. It wasn’t about doing something dangerous; it was about exploring the world around them in ways that others might shy away from. That’s how they ended up in the middle of a crowded street festival in a small town they’d only just discovered. The streets were alive with vibrant colors—streamers hung between the buildings, food carts lined the sidewalks, and banners in every color imaginable waved in the summer breeze.The ...

1 like

Encrypted Shadows

Vera N

Dani Alvarez was halfway out the door when her phone buzzed. Rain hammered the pavement outside her apartment, and she glanced at the screen expecting a text from her sister.FROM: Unknown MESSAGE: Red Level. Secure package. Do NOT engage. Extraction ETA: 03:47. Coordinates attached. Burn after reading.She froze.This wasn’t spam. This was something else—something serious. Classified, even. Her finger hovered over the screen as the rain hissed beyond the windowpane. She tapped the coordinates.A warehouse. On the city’s edge. And an attachment:...

0 likes

The Book That Found Me

Vera N

Samantha had always been a skeptic. Whether it was astrology, fortune-telling, or the idea of fate, she rejected it all. Life, in her view, was a tangled web of chance, cause and effect. Every action had a logical consequence. But all of that changed the moment she stepped into her local coffee shop and saw the barista behind the counter holding the very book she had lost years ago. It wasn’t just any book. It was a rare, out-of-print copy of *The History of Lost Things*, a book her grandfather had passed down to her when she was a child. It...

1 like

The Brow Code: Demands of the Face

Vera N

It started like any other Tuesday: drab, uninspired, and permeated by the faint scent of wet laundry and existential despair. I awoke to the dulcet tones of my neighbor's emotional support rooster, who had taken it upon himself to scream directly into my air vent every morning at 6:02 a.m. sharp. I had half a mind to call Animal Control, but last time I did, the rooster sent me a strongly worded letter signed "Yours Disrespectfully, Greg." I swung my legs off the bed and trod directly onto a Lego, which I hadn’t seen in three years and suspe...

2 likes

Five Floors From Home

Vera N

I don’t care what anyone says—today is not a good day. Mom kept saying, “New beginnings are exciting, sweetie!” and smiling like that made everything better. But I didn’t ask for a new beginning. I liked the old one just fine. I’m sitting on the back steps of our porch, the wood warm from the sun and chipped in the corners where I used to dig for bugs when I was little. Okay, littler. I’m ten now, which is practically eleven, and I’ve lived here since I was born. Every scratch on the railing, every weird creak on the third step down, it’s mi...

1 like

The Market's Edge

Vera N

Frank had been working at the Market longer than he cared to admit. Time, or whatever strange version of it existed here, had no real boundaries. It didn’t matter whether it was minutes or eons. The aisles of the Market stretched out in every direction, filled with impossible choices—rows upon rows of desires, regrets, and memories that never truly belonged anywhere. It was Frank’s job to oversee them.Most of the time, he was content with his place. He didn’t mind checking people out, guiding them through the Market. It was routine. Predicta...

0 likes