Jackie Mallery
Stories (4/0)
After Pride Parade
The openness and kindness is always the first thing I notice when I go to the pride parade: no lies, secrets, shame, nothing along those lines. People are as expressive as can be, smiling wide and not showing anger at each other for the simple sin of existence.
By Jackie Mallery2 years ago in Pride
Thank You For Today
Dying was not pleasant. If you were lucky, you wouldn't remember the sensation of dying or the weird terrifying visions that come during limbo before one would wake up. Most were not that lucky, however. The memories would haunt them both in dreams and consciousness. Following them for as long as they lived until their luck ran out, and they had their final death. For in this world if you had good fortune, you had multiple shots at life. There was a force in the world that would heal a person at death’s doorstep, and they be at peak health being able to continue on with their day as if it never happened. Nobody knew for sure how many they had, a guess at best, but there was always a hope for another shot. The nightmares were always a constant, it was a question of whether one would remember it or not.
By Jackie Mallery2 years ago in Fiction
Unwelcome Customer
“Zero?” The name was a buzz that delighted morning despite the early hour. The party people had dropped some time ago, so all that was left standing at the bar was the gossip crowd and those with dangerous tolerance levels. Either way, this was my favorite time of working here, right before it closed. Gossip was a great tool to get a foot in conversations that led to deals and favors. As far as I could gather, the rumors about Zero had been spotted a few towns over, leveled a whole ring of thieves, took the law in his own hands in the next village to kill the mayor, and took down a few bandit gangs single-handedly. I knew that all these rumors could be easily true because I was raised by Zero. That was information I kept to myself, though, as I listened from behind the bar counter.
By Jackie Mallery2 years ago in Fiction
Letter to the woman that use to be my mother
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom, It has been a few months since we last talked. I hope wherever you are, you are doing well. I know things between us have never been perfect, but I still miss you despite everything that has happened between us. I miss your hugs, smiles, laughter, and questionable taste in television shows. I miss talking with you, getting advice from you, sharing stories, and hearing about Grandma. I miss having you around, but I know that woman is gone, at least for now.
By Jackie Mallery2 years ago in Families