Menu

Menu

Prompts

Contests

Stories

Blog

Directory

Contests

Magazine

FAQ

Vera N

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2024

Stories (103)

Comments

Library

16 Followers

28 Following

103 Stories

431 karma pts

?

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

When Time Stopped at 12:07

Vera N

The rain had settled into a steady rhythm, tapping against the pavement like a thousand tiny fingers. Portsmouth, New Hampshire, felt small tonight. The streets—narrow and winding, lined with centuries-old brick buildings and salt-stained windows—seemed to draw in on themselves, as if the town, too, was holding its breath. The faint smell of saltwater from the nearby harbor mixed with the scent of wet earth and stone, a familiar and comforting aroma that had been a part of Clara’s life for as long as she could remember. But tonight, even the...

0 likes

The Decision Line

Vera N

Evelyn Hart rubbed her eyes as she leaned back in the worn seat of her Honda Civic, the soft hum of the engine the only sound keeping her company on the drive home. It was nearly midnight. The hospital shift had been brutal—eight hours turned into twelve, and her feet ached from standing, her mind heavy with images she couldn't shake. A man with a fractured skull, a little girl with second-degree burns, and an overdose case that had barely survived the night.She turned onto Main Street, passing the closed flower shop on the corner and the 24...

0 likes

Midnight Terminal

Vera N

The city buzzed with the low hum of late-night traffic, a constant, rhythmic pulse that filled the air with a quiet urgency. Car headlights stretched across the streets in long, brilliant ribbons of white and red, cutting through the heavy mist rising from the wet asphalt like veins of light, throbbing with the lifeblood of a city that never truly slept. The rain had just begun to fall in steady sheets, each drop a shimmering bead against the harsh glow of the streetlights, turning the pavement into a slick mirror that reflected the blur of ...

0 likes

Seven Minutes to Istanbul

Vera N

The intercom crackled.“Final boarding call for Flight 217 to Istanbul. All remaining passengers, please proceed to Gate A11.”Dylan had exactly four minutes.He sprinted past a man fumbling with a tray of Cinnabon, pivoted around a stroller with a wailing toddler, and vaulted over a rolling suitcase someone had abandoned in line for Starbucks. The backpack on his shoulder bounced with every stride. Inside, carefully packed in a hard case, was the drive. Not just any drive. The drive.Three minutes.Across the concourse, a security officer’s radi...

0 likes

Noose of Regret

Vera N

The moonlight stretched thin through the barred windows, casting skeletal shadows over the cracked stone floor of the prison cell. Rowan Calloway sat against the damp wall, his wrists raw from iron shackles, his mind a battlefield of regret and resolve. Tomorrow, he would be hanged for murder.They would call him a criminal, a traitor to justice. But Rowan knew the truth. He had killed a man, yes. But he had done it to save another.It had started with a simple promise—one given in a moment of desperation, whispered in the dead of night betwee...

0 likes

A Warning Too Late

Vera N

Darian’s hands trembled as he locked the office door behind him. The weight of the secret pressed against his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He moved to his desk, forcing himself to take slow, measured breaths. If anyone saw him like this, they’d know something was wrong. He couldn’t afford that—not now. Not ever.The city outside his window bustled with its usual hum of life, oblivious to what he had discovered. Cars honked in the distance, pedestrians hurried past on the sidewalks, completely unaware of the impending storm. If they ...

0 likes

The Wasteland Hunter

Vera N

Eleanor pressed her back against the jagged rock wall, her breath coming in short, controlled gasps. The cavern ahead of her pulsed with an eerie bioluminescence, casting ghostly shadows against the damp walls. She was running out of time. The air was thick with the scent of moss and something acrid—something unnatural. She tightened her grip on the rusted machete in her right hand and forced herself to move forward, her boots crunching over brittle, calcified remains scattered along the cave floor.She had never meant to come this deep into ...

0 likes

Behind The Painted Door

Vera N

You’ve walked past it a hundred times. Maybe more.A weathered blue door, its paint cracked and peeling, stands quietly between a dry cleaner’s and a coffee shop that never closes. It doesn’t call attention to itself. It simply exists, blending into the city’s background like an old scar on a familiar street. People glance at it without ever really seeing it. And if someone does stop, hesitation creeps in—an odd fog curling at the edges of their thoughts, nudging them to move along, to forget they ever noticed.But the door isn’t forgotten.Lat...

0 likes