Edenville by Sam Rebelein EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Sam Rebelein
- Language: English
- Genre: Occult Horror
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
The C.M. Box
The lounge dedicated to the faculty of the Creative Writing department is
not very large. But then again, neither is the Creative Writing department.
Madeline Narrows was one of only ten professors.
She sat on the green leather couch facing the mantel in the lounge, her
bare feet propped up on the coffee table before her. Madeline liked to be
barefoot. It helped her feel the breath of the Earth, she thought.
She closed the book she’d been reading. Its spine crinkled gently in the
silence of the lounge. She ran her hands over its surface. The Shattered Man
bled across its cover in bold, chalky yellow letters. The stick figure with its
spiky hair and eerie eyes stared up at her, made her shiver.
Madeline didn’t know this writer, this Campbell P. Marion. According to
his bio on the book’s back cover, this was his first book. He was a young
white man with a thick beard and round glasses. He had an MFA from
Branson College, about an hour’s drive from where Madeline now sat. He
wasn’t smiling in his black-and-white photo, which was credited to a Quinn
Rose Carver-Dobson. What a nice name. It sounded like a law firm.
Madeline wondered what their relationship was.
When she ran her fingers over the image of Campbell’s face, she felt that
he was kind, but that he often chose not to be. She felt that he could be
selfish and small, but that he was well-loved by at least one person who
believed in him (Quinn?). She felt that he could say mean things very
easily, and that his ideas could be dangerous.
Madeline took her fingers away from him. They felt oily and tingly as
she rubbed them together, the way they always did when Madeline felt
things about people.
She’d enjoyed The Shattered Man tremendously. She’d read it in one
sitting, in fact. But of course, she’d been riveted because the book had
partially been about her.
See, every other week for the past three months, the department’s student
employee (the sophomore boy with the gauges and blue hair) delivered a
box to the department’s office. This box contained an embarrassingly large
assortment of work. Books, magazines, printouts of online publications,
newspapers, literary journals . . . All of it dumped into a waterlogged
HelloFresh box and delivered from the campus library (where the bluehaired boy spent countless hours poring over archives, digital and physical)
to the Creative Writing department in Slitter Hall. The boy didn’t know
what it was all for, and thankfully, he never asked. Madeline didn’t know
how they’d explain it to him. Where would she even begin?
At the Alumni House dinner in February (almost three months ago now),
Madeline’s boyfriend, the handsome and award-winning writer Benny
McCall, had gathered all ten Writing professors in a side room of the
Alumni House. He poured himself a drink, told them to make themselves
comfortable. And he told them a story that only three of the ten people in
the room had believed. These three took turns reading the boxes every
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