Hugh Marlow

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2020

Stories (4)

4 Stories

79 karma pts

?

“There Is A Heaven For Us” by Hugh Marlow

Submitted to Contest #67

Trigger warning: suicide missions I first saw someone get killed when I was six. I was young enough to not know the reason why, but old enough to know that I shouldn’t ask. When the Japanese soldier burst into our straw-roofed cottage, I felt fear that I had never experienced before, of being killed – or worse, taken alive – by this stone-faced man in his khaki uniform with hands that belonged to a giant. I didn’t see the beating – I hid in a small wooden cabinet – but I could hear the lashing of the whip and the scream that ensued, o...

Read story

“The Smiling Man: A Scary Story, or The Tragicomedy of a Maenad” by Hugh Marlow

Submitted to Contest #64

It was a pleasant day. Sara was cutting tomatoes in the kitchen. With each stroke, the knife cut cleanly and hit the cutting board with a thud. Sara cut with a regular rhythm. Each thud kept up the pleasantness of the morning just a little more, until it quivered, nearly fell, then was renewed by the next thud. The phone rang. It was David. “Yes, honey?” Sara said. David’s heavy breathing broke the pleasantness of the morning. “Lock the doors,” David said, his voice coarse and raspy. “Close the blinds.” “Is everything okay?” Sara asked. “Li...

Read story

“Ennui” by Hugh Marlow

Submitted to Contest #58

There was sun. Warm, but not too warm. It made the colours of the world brighter. The leaves filtered its light and cast shadows on the pavement that lilted to the rhythm of the wind. It was beautiful. There were people. Lots of people, but not too crowded. We talked. We laughed. It was beautiful. This is a lie. I don’t remember the details. I only remember the warmth. I had made a friend, Nicole. She was nice. We talked a lot about things that didn’t really matter, as it always is with new people. I think it’s rather stupid. Imagine, a...

Read story

“Dim Sims” by Hugh Marlow

Submitted to Contest #50

It was 11:24 PM when we left the Chinese restaurant. I remember, because Eliza was upset that we were heading home so late – she had a morning shift. She would always tell me about how hard it was to wake up at 3am, how god awful the commute was, how dreadful the job was, how she was tired of everything. She had also found the dim sims subpar. I thought they were okay, but they had scalded my mouth, and I had spilt some of the juice on my shirt. “This is going to stain,” I said. “Jesus Christ, Brandon,” Eliza said. “It’s just a shirt.” ...

Read story

Author bio

Hugh Marlow has not written a bio yet!