Vincent Cruz

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2020

Stories (26)

26 Stories

453 karma pts

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“Under The Bed” by Vincent Cruz

When Thomas was four years old he woke to a strange noise coming from his closet. It was a sound like a slow moving creature walking through his toybox. Down the hall the light from his mother’s bedroom was on. Thomas got out of bed and went to his mother’s room where she was curling her hair in the bathroom.  “Mom, there is something in my toybox,” he said.  “What do you mean?” she asked..  “I h...

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“The Witching Hour” by Vincent Cruz

This is my mind. Or more specifically this is my mind at three in the morning swirling in the worst case scenarios of everything. And while I painfully lay here in waiting, waiting on those churning waters of dream to take me back, (my body falling in slow motion into the splashing pool), this is where we are, in darkness of mind and bedroom. A reality that is one part haunting, another part misery and dread. M...

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“The Water Bearer ” by Vincent Cruz

Steam rises from an iron kettle and begins to whistle. A man watches the water-vapor for several moments in a state of deep contemplation before dawning a protective mit to grab its handle. He pours the steaming water into a bluish cup.  Outside it's dusty and hot, and the stillness of the air is torturous and stale. The man pushes open the creaky screen door letting loose a scraggly mutt. He follows it outside ...

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“It's Your Funeral ” by Vincent Cruz

Fall. It has fallen over the world in an instant. Yesterday it was ninety five degrees and the whole state was in a drought. The river nearly ran dry, the earth parched for water and full of fire. But today the rain came so suddenly that those who woke up to it rose in confusion and awe. Pushing back the curtains and staring at the sky falling. What is this? What is it that could be falling from the sky?

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“The Voice” by Vincent Cruz

CW: Drug use.There is nothing worth looking at. It’s just a lot of pictures of birthday parties and cans of beer, nature scenes, and people whom I don’t really know. My finger is flicking the endless images up into the folds of my phone, where I imagine them going on forever like the opening to Star Wars. My mind is in a state of excited dullness. Consumed by the hole of the endless scroll. It’s after noon and I still haven’t heard from James. I’m sweeping up crumbs on the kitchen floor into a corner, there's all this d...

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“"I think I should tell you something…"” by Vincent Cruz

“This is my worst nightmare,” Ethan says. Next to him, curled in white bed sheets is Melanie, drinking from a green cup.  “I wish you wouldn’t say that,” she says.  “I don’t want this,” Ethan continues. “I never did, you have to understand.”  The room is gently rattling to the rumbling train in the distance. Its whistle sounds like a siren; confetti falls from the ceiling in the bedroom. Someone ...

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“Bacon & Eggs” by Vincent Cruz

I don’t recall how I got here. I blew in with the wind I think. Stumbled across the threshold and tumbled onto the linoleum of a diner on the side of the road. The street out there is laden with ash and debris like a hurricane tore through the neighborhood and lit the place on fire with matches and gasoline. I'm still trying to get my bearings.  I’ve found a seat at the counter and a woman with half a face is as...

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“It's Only A Nightmare ” by Vincent Cruz

How long have we been in this house? It might only be days, seems more like months (or has it been years?) There’s no sense of time anymore, no indication that anything has ever been different. I can hear the baby crying; my oldest daughter Blaire is yelling at him to shut up. Julie, my wife, is yelling at my daughter to stop yelling at the baby. This has been our lives for too long now. 

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“The Girl From Spain” by Vincent Cruz

Editors note: all edits done on my phone while on vacation... And... Well... A bit drunk....🤷🏽   I always find things when I’m cleaning the garage. The garage is the harbour for things to be thrown away, to be kept and never used, or to be found and remembered. There is a large bookcase with a cabinet underneath. Inside is a red bag. I know what is inside before I pull it out and sit in a chair to go thro...

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“What Now?” by Vincent Cruz

Deysi is in the bath. The last three days have been made up of long mornings and afternoons at a disaster preparedness conference in Chicago. There have been expensive dinners paid by her employer and morning sex and evening sex with the occasional afternoon romp. It’s Wednesday and she is wondering how Richard is doing at home in San Francisco getting the girls ready for school. Her mind wanders as her eyes patrol the ...

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“In Letters” by Vincent Cruz

My least favorite question to be asked is, “what do you do for work?” It's almost as cringe worthy as bringing up the weather.  “Why do you care?” I ask, my veins pumping with hot blood and surging with hatred. “So we can pretend that what I do for a living is interesting?”   I shouldn't be so angry, after all, these people are only trying to get to know me. I’ve certainly been guilty of asking ...

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“Fortunes ” by Vincent Cruz

“Did you like it?” Paul asks.  “I did, but It's not as good as our usual place,” Mary says. Paul lowers his eyes to the candle on the table, “I agree.”  The waiter places the check on a tray with two fortune cookies, “please take your time,” he says and leaves.  Mary catches eyes with Paul, “my favorite part.”  “Does that mean you’re paying?”  “Not the check, silly. Yo...

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“The Earth Will Tremble ” by Vincent Cruz

I've known about the deadline long enough, so time is no excuse. When I’d begun it felt like I had an endless abundance of time. I thought that it could never run out and yet I knew it would. I’ve never had an issue starting something and my initial push into a new writing project is full of inspiration and courage. Courage is important because without it no one would dare sit down to do the work. Once the first line is...

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“For The Love of Brand” by Vincent Cruz

No one needs to think anymore.  I work close enough that I can walk and on the way I pass by the Brand coffee shop. A woman stands outside with a tray where a large Americano in the cool morning air steams at its center. The algorithm knows my life in advance, it knows who I am, what I want, where I plan to go, and who I want to fuck.   Brand is everywhere. Every thought and action anticipated b...

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“You Shouldn't Be Here” by Vincent Cruz

Ray Baker is dressed in a blue button up shirt, a flak jacket snugly pressed against his body, black pants and matching boots. In his left hand is a large empty canvas bag and on his right hip is a glock secure in its holster. From under a black cap his eyes scan the severely outdated bank. He moves forward like he belongs there; but he doesn’t. He is firmly convinced that he only needs to look the part in orde...

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Author bio

I write. You write. We all write together.