Marilyn Glover
Bio
I am a seasoned hospitality professional and aspiring writer. I especially love poetry and experimenting with different styles. My inspiration comes from personal life events and I am known to root for the "underdog." I am 49 years young.
Stories (84/0)
Peace and Awing Found in Breaking Points: Soaring
Just another night at the lonely heart's club, it was not. Two years prior, a different story. She came a long way since her last patronage. The pub vibe felt refreshing. Sitting on her once typical Friday night bar stool did not phase her. Her name was forever tattooed on the footrest but time faded its etchings-only traces of letters remained. She held her head high, sipping ginger ale, not craving the seven and seven she once threw back in an attempt to bury the pain of a nasty divorce. A loveless marriage that left her feeling undesired and broken. A chip on her shoulders to prove her worth prompted reckless drinking and quests of flesh encounters to validate a sense of desirability. A midnight marauder, she became, pursuing men, many men, in an attempt to find herself. Drunken delusional comfort faded when the whiskey novocaine wore off, leaving her shattered on the floor, pieces scattered, broken pieces; no peace, only fragments of a soul followed by ghosts...
By Marilyn Glover2 months ago in Poets
Miss Macey Mastermind
Hello and good day! My name is Miss Macey, and I am an eight-year-old, twelve-pound, fluffy calico feline. Yes, I am a cat! I have a crucial task ahead of me today so please, follow me quickly. It is almost noon, and my Mum will be ringing me soon. Her name is Margot, and we live in a cozy flat in Manhattan. Margot is 34 years old and has been in the states since she was thirteen. I adore her accent and have to say she is a very attentive mother. Let's go on now. I must get to the kitchen. Margot will be ringing me from work, roughly at noon as she does every day.
By Marilyn Glover6 months ago in Fiction
The Oddest Synchronicity
Life is full of hidden gems waiting for us to uncover. Too often we overlook the importance of what is right in front of us digging deeper and deeper for a complicated explanation, assuming of course, that everything in this world is just that; complex. Perhaps we humans do things a bit backwards. Maybe just maybe the answers to some of our most pressing questions have a much simpler resolve lying in nature, numbers, music; subtle signs of guidance. I recall with such fondness the memories of my childhood during a time when I was struggling to find my place. Not a single detail escapes me in recollection as my story truly is of the oddest synchronicity.
By Marilyn Glover6 months ago in Fiction
October, Is Black Cat Awareness Month
As an animal lover and advocate for black cats, I am here today to draw attention to keeping our furry friends safe. October is black cat awareness month, and I would like people to be mindful of these little guys as Halloween draws closer. The black cat has long been the center of many myths and superstitions portraying them as evil creatures. Unfortunately, these ideas place them in danger of brutalization and ritualistic sacrifices. Even in modern times, the risk potential is a threat to these animals, so I am hoping today I can debunk some of the myths that still follow the black cat making people more aware.
By Marilyn Glover7 months ago in Petlife
The Day I Learned That Evil Can Live In A Human Body
My mum often told me that my life story is much like watching a horror film. I can hear her words “I cannot believe this” now as I write. I suppose she is correct as I have played certain events from my past on repeat for two decades. Oh, how I wish my memories were only snippets of a scary movie, but the fact remains: all details are actual. My experience has taught me that evil does exist in our world, and sometimes it walks among us wearing human flesh.
By Marilyn Glover8 months ago in Families
A Pair of Black Cats
Many moons ago, in a suburb of Pennsylvania, there once lived an intriguing pair of black cats. Matilda and Mildred were the only survivors in a litter of ten, born of a sickly mother. Matilda, the oldest by three minutes, was long and lean, quick-witted and agile. Unfortunately, she also had a bit of an attitude problem and was abrupt with her words. Mildred, on the other hand, was short and stout, solid and sentimental. She could chat for hours, loving meaningful conversation.
By Marilyn Glover9 months ago in Fiction
It's Time to Stop Dancing Around the Subject
Nylah threw back her third shot of fireball while her best friend, Yasmine, continued to flirt with the bartender. Yasmine tossed her long lavender-dyed coils over her bare shoulders as she leaned in closer to the handsome young fellow mixing drinks. Her white tube-top left little to the imagination as her cleavage peeked over like mountain summits. But of course, she knew what she was doing, and the man was happy to oblige.
By Marilyn Glover9 months ago in Fiction
The Last Sunflower
I can still feel the energy surging through my veins in a fireball explosion as a sheet of blue electricity struck down from the heavens immobilizing me. I will never forget the smell of my long black hair singeing at the tips or the sight of a smoke bomb escaping every threaded inch of my clothing. An eternity of torture amassed in moments yet I survived. Physically, I escaped with burns only to my palms. Mentally, my brains were fried and scrambled like freshly cut potatoes sizzling in oil and my morning eggs prepared just the way I like them. A decade ago, this was my ascending orchestrated by The Creator calling me to rise for the sake of humanity.
By Marilyn Glover10 months ago in Fiction
