Alex Addyson
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Stories (3)
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The line to Malum
I woke up to a familiar smell. Like one of those smells from a memory, of somewhere you’ve been before but can’t get back to. And you miss the way you felt, who you were with, the things you were seeing, the things you once hoped for. A memory which makes you feel like something is missing, like you can pinpoint the exact moment it all went wrong. All from that smell that you can’t even quite place, that your brain may have even made up. The next thing I’m aware of is something rushing past me, or perhaps myself rushing forwards. Backwards? I don’t know.
By Alex Addyson3 years ago in Fiction
The Story
“The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. A little ways down the hill, there was a clearing in the woods where five teenagers were camping for the weekend – a weekend that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. It was Saturday night, around 9 o’clock, and the weather was perfect. The sky was clear, the stars were shining bright. But not as bright as that candle…oh no, this candle burned with a strange intensity, brighter than any flame the teenagers had ever seen. Eloise was the first to notice it.
By Alex Addyson4 years ago in Fiction
Number 809
I don’t want to go home. Softball practice finished twenty minutes ago, and I stayed behind to help my coach pack up the drills and put away the equipment. He locked the little shed behind the school and asked if I had someone coming to get me, like he always does. I said no, that I was going to walk home, like I always do. He is a very nice man, my softball coach. Both of his daughters play netball at my school, but he always teases them and says netball is for sissies. I think it must be a lot of fun to live at their house.
By Alex Addyson5 years ago in Criminal
