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Alex Marmalade

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2020

Stories (143)

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84 Followers

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143 Stories

2031 karma pts

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Crimson Enigma

Submitted to Contest #292

The world had long since forgotten colour. Under a pallid sky, a barren grey landscape stretched as far as the eye could see. Yet in the midst of that desolation, one forbidden hue pulsed with quiet defiance—a single, vivid stroke of crimson that beckoned to those with eyes to see. It was the Crimson Enigma, a painting that held its secrets tight like a scorpion in a sun-bleached barrel.Inspector Bea “Red” McCall was as unapologetically Texan as they came, a force of nature in a field where art and fraud collided. Born amid the dust and grit...

5 likes

Periwinkle's Promise

Submitted to Contest #292

Tuelo straightened his tie in the side mirror of the town car, the fabric slick and uncomfortable against his fingers. The church loomed before him—a testament to colonial sensibilities that had no business in Gaborone, yet somehow managed to be a landmark his father had insisted on frequenting. The irony wasn't lost on him: a man who'd built an empire by exploiting the very forces that had once colonized them, now to be memorialized in their house of worship.Twenty years. Twenty years since he'd last set foot on Botswanan soil. Twenty years...

5 likes

Fractured Nexus

Submitted to Contest #291

The auditorium crackled with anticipation as Noah Shaw approached the podium. Three thousand graduates in identical caps and gowns leaned forward, eager to absorb wisdom from the man who'd revolutionized how humans interacted with technology. At forty-two, Shaw had the casual confidence of someone who'd changed the world while others were still deciding on a career path."First off, congratulations Class of 2025," he began, sliding his hands into the pockets of his bespoke suit, tailored to downplay his success while subtly broadcasting it. "...

5 likes

The Last Confession of Nikolai Vetrov

Submitted to Contest #291

Soft flakes of snow drifted lazily through the frigid morning air as Nikolai Vetrov was dragged from his cell. The iron shackles bit into his raw wrists, sending jolts of pain up his arms with each stumbling step. The two guards flanking him maintained their rigid silence, their breath fogging in the bitter cold of the Siberian dawn."Move faster, Vetrov," one guard muttered, shoving him forward. "The Commissar doesn't like to be kept waiting."Nikolai had known this day would come. Every thief, every rebel, every enemy of the new order eventu...

8 likes

Right-side of the Blue Lagoon

Submitted to Contest #291

Kendricks studied the menu through lightly fogged reading glasses. The laminated pages of the Blue Lagoon's offerings were sticky at the edges—remnants of countless fingers tracing the same path between overpriced appetizers and underwhelming entrées. He didn't need the menu, not really. He already knew what he would order: the most pretentious-sounding item listed. It was his ritual, his test. Outside, rain pelted the windows of the diner, turning the Arkansas evening into a blur of headlights and neon. Inside, the air hung heavy with the s...

4 likes

Porcelain Witness

Submitted to Contest #291

They installed me in 1851, the year he arrived. White porcelain against sterile tile, my brass fixtures gleaming with promise of utility unfulfilled.  "Did you catch the spectacle this morning? Our distinguished colleague Semmelweis—escorted out like a common criminal." "To that fancy new asylum on the outskirts? The one with the wrought iron gates?" "The very same. Quite the fall from grace for the esteemed doctor." "Divine justice, if you ask me. Man spent years accusing us of murder because we don't participate in his elaborate washi...

8 likes

Dreams in Counterpoint

Submitted to Contest #291

Wiesenstraße gleamed with morning dew as Georg trudged beside his father, their footsteps creating a syncopated rhythm against the cobblestones. The barber-surgeon's hand rested heavily on the boy's shoulder, steering him toward the courthouse where he would someday practice law. Ten-year-old Georg's fingers twitched at his sides, conducting an invisible orchestra that only he could hear. "Keep your focus, boy," his father muttered. "Dreams fill empty stomachs with nothing but air." Georg nodded obediently, but his mind wandered to the churc...

8 likes

The Veil Between Mirrors

Submitted to Contest #290

Consciousness returned like a tide—first the distant roar, then the sudden rush. Elara gasped, her lungs remembering their purpose after centuries of stillness. The first sensation was pressure—warm lips against hers, a stranger's breath mingling with her own. Not gentle or reverent, but desperate and searching. Wrong. This kiss tasted of tears and sacrifice. As her eyes fluttered open, she saw his face hovering above—young, handsome, and utterly horrified. "You're not her," he whispered, recoiling as if burned. Elara's throat scraped raw as...

3 likes

Guillermo's Crossing

Submitted to Contest #290

Sarah Patel's knuckles whitened around the handle of her carry-on as she shuffled through the "Nothing to Declare" line at Heathrow Terminal 5. Three days in Barcelona had left her with chapped lips, a phone full of cathedral photos, and a secret nestled between her chemistry textbook and a crumpled Barcelona FC jersey. The queue inched forward beneath fluorescent lights that somehow made everyone look simultaneously washed-out and suspicious. A customs officer with a German Shepherd patrolled the edges of the line, the dog's nails clicking ...

7 likes

The Arithmetic of Belonging

Submitted to Contest #290

Nisha sat still as the henna artist worked, watching the fine lines emerge on her palms. Outside the window, the monsoon clouds gathered, promising rain for tomorrow's ceremony. She flexed her fingers carefully, counting the hours until she would become a wife to a man whose face she had seen only in photographs. "Keep still," her mother scolded, adjusting the heavy gold necklace around Nisha's neck. "Your father and grandfather secured this match with considerable effort. The Raos are a good family." "I know, Amma," Nisha replied. Her mothe...

5 likes

When the West Rides East

Submitted to Contest #290

A faded buzz—a dim screen in a rain-washed Kowloon backstreet—a single, broken message still echoed in his mind: “I need you.” That call, received long before he boarded a plane he’d always feared, had drawn him from the vast, unforgiving plains of Texas to the neon labyrinth of Hong Kong. It was a promise made on lonely Texan nights and kept in the quiet spaces between heartbeats—a call that no matter how far the world stretched, some oaths could not be broken.He was a Texan born under endless skies—a cowboy whose low, deliberate drawl and ...

10 likes

Covenant of Shadows

Submitted to Contest #290

The neon haze of New Singapore dripped over every surface like spilled mercury—a city of contradictions where the state’s creed held sway over every heartbeat. In this realm, permanent union was not celebrated but condemned. The state’s modern champions—collectively known as the Modernity Council—decried the ancient practice of binding oneself irrevocably to another. They argued, in measured tones and with pointed glances, that such permanence was anachronistic and an impediment to progress. Yet in the dark corridors beneath the metropolis, ...

6 likes

Silk Moths Don't Return

Submitted to Contest #289

Maya's reflection stared back at her from the cathedral bathroom mirror, a stranger wrapped in yards of hand-embroidered silk. The dress alone cost more than what Maria, who was currently mopping the floor behind her, would earn in ten years. Two hundred thousand dollars of white silk and crystal beading, designed to transform her into the perfect Malhotra bride. The same silk that had arrived three months ago in a box carved from sandalwood, accompanied by a note that read: *"Tradition meets luxury. Just like our families."* She remembered ...

17 likes

Verborgene Wiege

Submitted to Contest #289

Karl Schmidt's fingers trembled as he filled out the Hitler Youth application. One more form, one more stamp of approval, and he could finally prove his worth to Gruppenführer Müller. After two years of suspicious glances and whispered questions about why he wasn't already a member, Karl would silence the doubters. He just needed his birth certificate. Outside his father's study window, December snow fell on Munich's streets, coating the remnants of broken glass that still glittered in some shopfront corners, even a month after Kristallnacht...

5 likes

Tempus Resurgens

Submitted to Contest #289

The clock on the wall read 2:57 PM. Margaret Ashworth studied its methodical movement with the same analytical focus she'd once applied to quarterly reports and market projections. The second hand's steady march reminded her of stock tickers – those digital harbingers of fortune that had guided her decisions for four decades at Ashworth Pharmaceuticals. Now, in this sterile room with its institutional whites and greys, another number demanded her attention: Protocol 65. The newest initiative from the Department of Dignified Transitions, laun...

9 likes

Author bio

Hi, I’m Alex Marmalade. I tell stories that try to dig for the truths we bury beneath the surface.

Yes, Marmalade is a somewhat ridiculous last name – I've made peace with this (sort of 🙃). But sometimes it takes an unusual perspective to see what others miss.

My stories explore what happens in those pivotal moments when pretense falls away—when characters stop calibrating themselves against artificial standards and finally embrace who they truly are. I'm still figuring this all out myself, honestly. 🤗

Fiction is sometimes the clearest way to tell the truth. As Over the Rhine once said, "If you're not embarrassed, then you're not doing it right."

These stories are fragments I've unearthed from somewhere deeper—fossils carefully brushed clean and held to the light. I publish a new one every weekday, along with reflections on the unexpected discoveries found along the way.

If these explorations resonate with you, find more at: https://alexmarmalade.substack.com/

The garden gate is always unlocked. ✨

1 winning story 🏆

Contest #294

Unspoken Orders – read story