Vera Andrew
Bio
A British Russian, have lived in four countries, a psychotherapist & teach English. Love languages and conceptualising & building a well-structured piece. Favourite authors -O’Henry, Nabokov, Maugham. Donna Tartt. Hope you enjoy my stories)
Stories (4/0)
The Crab, the Dude and the Boathouse
It is March 1991, and I am in my grandparents’ village, or to be more precise, in the village pond, and I am drowning. For such a major event in my life, it goes by spectacularly fast. I see water, pitch black, bubbles, running away from me as I thrash and kick and burn, ice on top, and, as I try to dole out breath, twist, head for the opening, a giant of a bubble right in front of my eyes. I know, I just know it’s the last one. I gasp, ice snaps up my heart, and then down and nothing.
By Vera Andrew3 years ago in Fiction
Scorn
Robert was an impressive man, a talented man, a man who had found his place in life by depending solely on himself. Others chose to believe in God or Fate or Karma or whatever you called random occurrences. Woolly concepts like these repelled him; they were for immature people not in control of their own lives.
By Vera Andrew3 years ago in Fiction
Suelto
The hiss and gurgle of the coffee machine greeted me when I got down to the bar. It was seven in the morning, and Frank was on his own, with his back to me, tending to its shiny dials and handles. He had told me years ago that the locals never ordered the first coffee of the day, claiming it tasted bitter and preferring to wait until the machine heated through. It would be a while. I walked past him, without saying hello.
By Vera Andrew3 years ago in Fiction