Alexandra Hubbell
Bio
To see more art:
Insta @alexandrahubbellart
To get more art:
Etsy https://www.etsy.com/shop/AlexandraHubbellArt?ref=shop_sugg
Achievements (1)
Stories (11/0)
The Loop
My stomach lurches. I open my eyes, and my head is throbbing. My mouth tastes like I’ve eaten an ashtray. Something jolts me forward, and I hit my head on the seat in front of me. A wave of nausea rises from the pit of my stomach. I reach into the seat pocket searching for something to retch into. I open a paper bag just in time. The bile reeks of watermelon liquor. After vomiting a second time, I sit back a moment with my eyes closed. I feel the earth shifting below me, the sound of wheels on tracks. I’m on a train. Not the first time I’ve woken up on the train after a night out. I look out the window, searching for any sign of coming up on a station, but all I see is my face looking back at me from a pitch black view. My reflection has looked better. My hair stands up in tangled knots along the top of my head. My eyes are dark from smeared makeup and lack of sleep. I yawn, and my breath almost makes me turn back to the bag, but a voice startles the sensation away.
By Alexandra Hubbell2 years ago in Fiction
The Covenant
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley,” Carrow flapped his robe behind him dramatically, as though he had wings. The flames of the bonfire sparked at the gust of air, sending light further up, illuminating the vast cave they’d made their home. Embers exploded beyond the barrier of rocks and scattered close to the young ones. They had been sitting almost too closely to the fire, enraptured by their storyteller, but they jumped back in fits of giggles as the firebrands descended. Rumor had it, Carrow had played several small parts in the King’s Theater, before the dragons came. Millicent had to admit he was entertaining. He continued. “Man grew complacent. The valley hadn’t seen a dragon in centuries.”
By Alexandra Hubbell2 years ago in Fiction
The Seal
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley,” Carrow flapped his robe behind him dramatically, as though he had wings. The flames of the bonfire sparked at the gust of air, sending light further up, illuminating the vast cave they’d made their home. Embers exploded beyond the barrier of rocks and scattered close to the young ones. They had been sitting almost too closely to the fire, enraptured by their storyteller, but they jumped back in fits of giggles as the firebrands descended. Rumor had it, Carrow had played several small parts in the King’s Theater, before the dragons came. Millicent had to admit he was entertaining.
By Alexandra Hubbell2 years ago in Fiction
The Collective
Step right foot. Step left foot. Swipe my Level 2 badge. Enter turnstile, right hip first. Walk forward. File into line, always behind Number 33, some guy with white-blonde hair. He wears it slicked back like the others, but a small cowlick always spirals up in the back. We walk toward the screening chamber in perfect unison, our perfectly trim bodies in perfectly white, crisp uniforms. Each of us goes through the chamber one at a time. When it’s my turn, I try to keep my heart rate from rising. I try to do the right thing, the same thing, as all the others. They are watching.
By Alexandra Hubbell3 years ago in Fiction
If the world ends we meet at the autumn house
I grew up safe and loved in a house that looked like autumn. It was a warm white, almost yellow, like the glow of a light you’d want to read by, with deep reddish-brown shutters and two French doors. The doors matched the shutters, and we swung them all open in the summer, which always started early and ended late.
By Alexandra Hubbell3 years ago in Fiction
Apocalyptic's Waste & Collection Center
Joe brought another pile of junk today. This one is pure junk--moldy food cans, scraps of paper, plastic up to your eyeballs. Disgusting heaps of rotting garbage. I have to sort it all into mountains. Sometimes, if I’m drunk enough and I squint a little, it almost looks pretty. I never got out to see any real mountains, but I imagine they’re kind of like this. I always start with the metals. Cans, tire rims, rusty ladders--you name it, it ends up here. Then I go for the plastics. Baby doll heads. Cheap lawn chairs. Water bottles with fancy names and promises of health benefits. I mean, it’s water for Christ’s sake. All bullshit. Might as well throw away the electrolytes, the vitamins. Nobody’s getting healthier now. Joe says kids are being born with extra pieces or parts missing. Brains like mush. I try not to think about it.
By Alexandra Hubbell3 years ago in Futurism
Is It Really "More Than a Feeling?"
In 2020, TV became more than just background noise or an escape after a long workday. Streaming became a window to pre-pandemic life. Travel plans were nixed, concerts postponed, family holidays cancelled. To survive, we had to socially distance and mask-up, unable to even smile at a stranger while passing them in the grocery store. It’s been an incredibly isolating time, and for many, the only “people” allowed into their homes were the characters on a show or movie. We invited Moira and David Rose to dinner, Michael Scott was our boss, we went out at night with Carrie and Samantha. My friends and I turned first to these familiar shows in an attempt at some consistency in our lives—"Seinfeld", "The Office", "Parks and Rec", "Sex and the City".
By Alexandra Hubbell3 years ago in Geeks
The Lights That Bind
Their new house was all glass on the side facing the forest. In the daylight, they could stand and watch the lanky pines sway in the wind and the sun peek out over them in splintered rays. At night, with the interior lights on, the glass became like an inquisition room. Elizabeth’s little family was on display like fish in a tank as they ate dinner, argued over the dishes, sat in the living room together. The wall became a shadowbox displaying her son Ben scrolling on his phone, rolling his eyes when she asked what he was laughing at on the screen as though letting her in on the joke was an immense inconvenience.
By Alexandra Hubbell3 years ago in Horror
- Third Place in Spooky Shorts Challenge
A Nice PlaceThird Place in Spooky Shorts Challenge
They arrived in Autumn Heights without warning. The “For Rent” sign wasn’t even plucked from the front yard of the Grimley House when their old Buick sputtered into the driveway. People stared, as people do. The school bus driver even made a point to drive off-route down Maple Leaf Road just to get a glimpse of the newcomers.
By Alexandra Hubbell4 years ago in Horror
