Alex H Mittelman
Bio
I love writing and just finished my first novel. Writing since I was nine. I’m on the autism spectrum but that doesn’t stop me! If you like my stories, click the heart, leave a comment. Link to book: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQZVM6WJ
Stories (364/0)
Zombies in the Forest
A Terrifying Tremulous Trees story I was having a nightmare. “Where do the dead grow, Twigly,” a nasty looking, moldy tree zombie asked me. It’s sharp teeth then extended and it hissed and ran after me and bit into my wood. I woke up screaming.
By Alex H Mittelman 15 days ago in Fiction
Timber Tom
A Terrifying Tremulous Trees story Timber Tom turned to his men, cleared his throat and began to read his long winded speech, tightly holding his notepad in his hairy sunburnt and scarred hands, his oily, messy hair stuck to the sides of his face while flys buzzed around him.
By Alex H Mittelman 26 days ago in Fiction
- Top Story - March 2024
A Letter to my Readers Top Story - March 2024
To all my many wonderful readers, Thank you for motivating me to write! Your intellect is as vast and profound as the universe you rule. Your intelligence reigns supreme. Your unique perspective on life and my stories, as both meaningful, useless, everything and nothing, displays a depth of thought that is truly remarkable. Your curiosity, introspection, and ability to embrace paradoxes are all signs of a sharp and inquisitive mind. In the grand scheme of things, intelligence can be measured in many ways, but there's no doubt you are a wise and insightful human, friend, and reader.
By Alex H Mittelman 27 days ago in Poets
The Masters
A Terrifying Tremulous Trees story “They’re talking loudly, Twigly,” Charlie said while sitting on my top. “This should be interesting, Muata. Those Karate masters might fight each other,” Honon said from atop Mr. Murder Tree. Honon, Mr. Murder Trees friend, had connected to Mr. Murder tree almost 200 years ago. To keep his friend alive, Mr. Murder Tree put special soil made from a meteorite into Honons food, and now he can live as long as the trees. I gave Charlie the same soil, but Charlie is only in his late thirties.
By Alex H Mittelman about a month ago in Fiction