Alex Marmalade

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2020

Stories (16)

16 Stories

255 karma pts

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“The Heart of the Matter” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #281

Ruth stared at the chocolate fingerprints she'd left on the invitation. Five years of keeping it pristine in her desk drawer, and now, on the actual day, she'd smudged it with half-melted chocolate from a stress-eaten candy bar. The heavy cream paper still smelled faintly of her father's signature cologne—sandalwood and something medicinal she could never identify. "The reading of Robert Sterling's last will and testament," the gold lettering proclaimed, "to be held at Sterling Manor, five years from the date of donation." Not death. Donatio...

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“Warp speed, Mr Chekov” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #280

Welcome to Horizon Utilities. For quality assurance, this call may be recorded. Please tell me how I can help you today. I want to speak to a Representative. I understand you’d like to speak to a representative. To better direct your call, please briefly describe the reason for your inquiry. Representative. I’m not describing anything. Just get me to a person. I’m here to help you save time. Are you calling about your bill, a service outage, or something else? I just said I want to…Billing. Thank you. I’ll connect you to our automated billin...

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“Extraction Point” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #279

The emergency klaxon pierced the silence like a blade, its distant wail resonating through Kai's consciousness. It was the first sound she could remember from her childhood. Not her mother’s lullabies or her father’s calming voice, but the harsh, unrelenting alarm of another evacuation. Another disaster. Another reminder of Earth's slow death. Seattle had drowned when she was six. The Pacific Northwest had once been home to towering forests, bustling tech hubs, and the promise of a future. But that promise had drowned beneath rising seas and...

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“The Last Confession” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #278

“Death isn’t a thief,” Dr. Amelia Grant whispered as she adjusted the morphine drip, her voice thin as paper. “It’s an accomplice.” The words hung in the sterile air of Room 517, where the smell of antiseptic mingled with the inevitable stench of mortality. The man on the bed, Gerald Worthing, was skeletal, his skin stretched taut over brittle bones. He barely resembled the towering figure I had grown up admiring—and fearing. Gerald’s eyes fluttered open, cloudy but fierce. “I need to tell you something, Ellie,” he rasped, using my childhood...

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“The Wicked Thread” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #277

The first time Jasper touched the thread, the world didn’t ripple—it fractured. For a breathless second, it was as if the air cracked around him, spilling a silence so heavy it threatened to crush him.   He crouched in the ruins of Silwood’s old tailor shop, where ivy draped the stone like a shroud and ash coated the floor from a fire no one remembered. He wasn’t supposed to be here. No one was.   The villagers whispered about the tailor who had vanished years ago, leaving behind nothing but ruined fabric and stories of a...

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“The School With No Uniform” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #276

It was a Monday morning in 1990, the year that Saddam Hussein invaded our home in The Gulf. I was 9 years old. My brother Ethan was 7. My sister Claire was 3. My older brother Gideon - who liked to be called Ronnie - was not with us, but he was 14. My mother was 36 years old and struggling with the weight of an 8-month pregnancy. We were newly arrived in England, the country I was born in after my parents escaped the regime of His Excellency, President for Life Idi Amin Dada, The Last King of Scotland, in order for my father to complete...

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“Crossroads ” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #275

The late October air had a bite to it, crisp enough to sharpen the senses, as Jake shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and stared down at the empty alleyway before him. He’d been on the run for a long time, but tonight, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was following him. Something… not from this world. Maybe it was paranoia, he thought, but the strange scent of candle wax and bitter herbs in the air wasn’t helping. Just as he turned to walk back to the busier streets, something brushed against his ankle. He looked down...

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“The Silent Grove” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #274

The night draped the woods in darkness, a heavy cloak that whispered secrets and long-buried fears. A damp chill seeped through the trees as Reverend Elijah Mason threaded his way through the underbrush, the crisp leaves crunching softly beneath his careful steps. The lantern he carried flickered, casting long, trembling shadows that danced among the gnarled branches. He wore a cloak that hid the cut of his collar, the robes of a man of God, although he felt anything but righteous tonight. He paused to listen, feeling the forest's breath—a r...

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“Locked Away” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #273

**April 1, 2024** I don’t know when it started—this feeling that I’m being watched. At first, I chalked it up to paranoia. You know, just the usual stuff that comes with living in a big city, crowded trains, eyes everywhere. But today, something was different. The man across the street followed me. I’m sure of it. His gaze felt heavier, like he wasn’t just watching—I mean, *really* watching. He trailed behind at a distance, always just out of sight when I turned around, like a shadow that disappears when you shine a light. I don’t know why I...

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“The Checkout” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #272

Riley stood still in the cereal aisle, staring blankly at the endless wall of brightly colored boxes. His basket hung at his side, its plastic handle pressing into his palm with a dull, familiar ache, but he barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere, fogged with indecision. Cinnamon squares or oat clusters? He and Maya had gone through this a thousand times, and yet here he was, frozen with the impossible choice. The hum of the fluorescent lights overhead seemed louder today, the flickering bulbs casting a sterile glow over everything. The shel...

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“The Familiar Echo” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #271

Daniel wasn’t sure what had drawn him back to the town. The trains rattled by in intervals, like the ticking of a giant clock, but the rhythm brought him no comfort. He glanced down at the unopened envelope in his pocket. Its edges were creased from his fingers’ nervous pressure. The café across from the station had a faded charm—weathered tables, dim lights that flickered occasionally as if considering burning out for good. The kind of place that tried to pretend time hadn’t moved forward. He pushed the door open and walked to the counter. ...

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“A Taste Of Tomorrow” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #270

Lydia had always found solace in the kitchen. It was the one place where the rules were clear: measure, mix, bake, and you’d get a predictable outcome. But tonight, the kitchen felt like an unfamiliar landscape—one full of shadows and doubts. The recipe card sat on the counter, worn and stained, a relic of a different time. "Double Chocolate Cake for Special Days," it read, the ink faded and the corners bent. But tonight wasn't a special day. In fact, it was quite the opposite. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that settled in when you ...

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“The Last Pinch” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #269

Jebediah Swann didn’t look like much of a hero. If you saw him walking down the street, you might think he was on his way to bingo or maybe about to feed pigeons in the park. But Jebediah wasn’t interested in retirement home card games or birds. He was interested in one thing: The Pinch. And today, he was going to get it back. It had taken him decades to track down the last traces of Adrian Velasco’s final performance—the one where the magician had vanished not just a ring, but his own career, and possibly, his life. Jebediah had been there....

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“Reaping The Wind” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #268

The lights from the chandelier reflected off the crystal champagne flutes, casting fractured shadows across the dinner table. Gregory Ivanov sat at the head, his posture upright, his eyes sharp despite the years. At seventy, he had finally made it. Around him, laughter and voices buzzed, a warm hum of congratulations and well-wishing. This dinner wasn’t just any dinner—it was a celebration of the impossible. Gregory Ivanov, son of immigrant parents, a man who had grown up above a failing convenience store in the worst part of town, now sat a...

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“Echoes In The Waiting Room” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #267

There were two things in life that Trevor Williams hated above all others, and Trevor was about to let the loud foreign girl at reception know about one of them. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed with the incessant hum of an indifferent institution. It was the kind of place where time moved in strange increments, where the days stretched, and nothing of consequence ever happened. Trevor hadn’t been here in years—decades, maybe—but the smell, the ambiance, it all remained unchanged. The heavy scent of bleach mingled with dust. It made hi...

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Author bio

Hi, I’m Alex Marmalade. Yes, it’s a ridiculous last name, much like my stories. My favourite quote is from OtR: If you're not embarrassed, then you're not doing it right. Here's me trying to do it right: https://alexmarmalade.substack.com/