alan edwin innes
Bio
I've been writing for as long as i can remember, most of its crap but some of it might be good.
Stories (4/0)
The impossibility of comfort.
Comfort is but a moment, no more than a moment of time in which one does not feel Motivation nor do they want, envy, feel gratitude or even think. One simply exists. This existence is on par with that of the rocks and leafs that do not populate the world but merely are in this world as we know it.
By alan edwin innes2 years ago in Poets
[temporary] bunker story
went to sleep in america. [first draft] who am I? I suppose I'm not the first person to ask that but I'm afraid I might be the last. I woke up recently in a hospital bed. I remember on my nineteenth birthday scheduling with some friends to go... I think golf I cant quite remember but now I'm here in what I think is an underground bunker. There aren't any calendar's in here least that I have found so far, although there are a lots of skeletons.
By alan edwin innes2 years ago in Fiction
the cabin[s]
Campfire tales The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. That was what I said as part of a scary story I told my friend Andrew. We were out camping in, I think, February. It was just us two and a whole lot of refrigerated chicken. Well, we also had other food and water, of course, but mostly chicken. We also had a fire, of course, and some tents, but that was really it.
By alan edwin innes2 years ago in Horror
The sea serpents
The sea serpents There weren't always dragons in the valley. In fact we thought them all dead. By now we thought them never to be real, well besides Komodo dragons of course. But fewer boats are returning. Fewer planes are as well. Sightings have increased on both the land and sky but most pressingly for me the water. and this time it isn't just crazy people seeking attention, claiming to see them and just two weeks ago, the prime minister just declared a public announcement of they're return and of ones capture. My name is Arthur Claydon before I was just a normal crofter, although now my past is very literally buried and this is my writing of what might be my last action.
By alan edwin innes2 years ago in Fiction
