Arlin Dixon

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2023

Stories (6)

6 Stories

131 karma pts

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“Locked Away” by Arlin Dixon

Submitted to Contest #274

Everything is fine. I’ve locked her in the attic. That’s what my mother told me one night when I shot up in bed, soaked in sweat, desperately trying to escape my dream. I often had bad dreams when I was little. Shadows reaching through my bed, faces in the windows, monsters in the closet. All I knew was that if I screamed loud enough my voice would make it out of my dream. Mom would open the door, letting the nightmare escape, and I’d be okay again until morning. Except this night was different. She stood at the door blocking the...

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“Big Apple Dreams” by Arlin Dixon

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #262

Mom got the car. Even though it’s just a trial separation Alice, and no one is talking about divorce, I can’t help but notice things are getting divided. Me included. Mom gets me this month. I was supposed to be going to camp this summer with my friends. We’re finally old enough for sleep-away camp and we were going to roast marshmallows, swim in the lake, and stay up all night giggling while our counsellors met up by the fire pit with cans of things they’re not old enough to drink. But things happen in a trial separation. Things get forgott...

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“Annalise” by Arlin Dixon

Submitted to Contest #239

Annalise stares at her thighs, spread out against the mattress on the edge of the bed. She’d been sick most of the night, and it was now everything she could do to remain upright. Hunched over, but upright. She wipes the drool from the side of her mouth and raises her head. Headrush. She closes her eyes again, taking as deep a breath as her congested lungs will allow. She needs a pill. Something to remove the knife jabbing into her skull. But that is all the way downstairs, and she is all the way upstairs. Not for the first time, Annalise wi...

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“The Ultra” by Arlin Dixon

Submitted to Contest #235

It started with a letter. Sundays at the pub. The ultra-runner would sit beside the fireplace with his beans and chips and a glass of Guinness, still in his gear. I sat at the bar and watched him. Wishing I could be him. There was something about him that was so pure. So honest. He was a runner. It was in his blood. I ran too, but not like that. I did races where there were water tables set up and cheer stands throughout the route. Where an entry fee would get you a goody bag of pins and gels and a t-shirt with a reflective strip down the...

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“No Pets Allowed” by Arlin Dixon

Submitted to Contest #211

Claire was not allowed a pet. The death toll on her watch was far too great for her parents to shill out cash for another belly-up fish or stiff hamster. It wasn’t deliberate, Claire was just clumsy, and forgetful, and…curious. Very curious. Her mother was a veterinarian and her dad worked for a nature conservancy, so the whole thing was more than tragic. It was embarrassing. How could these two pillars of the community, these dedicated vegans, these good parents have a daughter like Claire? Better to smile and say that the poor child has ...

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“The Poisoner's Garden” by Arlin Dixon

Submitted to Contest #210

I broke into the Poison Garden on a dare. It’s always a dare with us. Something to break up the tedium of being an only child and completely neglected by parents who are trying to keep a roof over my head and don’t have time for childish games, thank you very much. Wallace is bored for other reasons. But I suppose you’ll question him later. Suffice it to say, he dared me to break in, so I did. At night. Alone. Well, not completely alone. There was somebody waiting for me there. As you well know. Of course, I wore gloves. I’m not an id...

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Author bio

Arlin is a writer from Toronto. She's been published in the Antigonish Review and has received professional productions of her plays. Follow her at www.arlindixon.ca

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #262

Big Apple Dreams – read story