Angela Mabry
Bio
I am weirdly the most Introverted Extrovert you will ever meet. Or maybe that should go the other way..... am I a seriously extroverted Introvert? Either way, writing is my creative outlet. Welcome to my weird mind and imagination.
Stories (7)
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SoulMate
Greetings Reader, This is probably going to be hard to understand, but I feel like I need to represent myself and express things that you may need to have knowledge of. When you have been in existence for as long as I have, you come to the understanding that all things are fluid. Memories are fluid. Names, dates and places are constantly changing. Time is relative. For me, the one singular thing that remains constant and solid and has never changed is my Energy, my Consciousness of Being. My Consciousness grows and stretches as I gain knowledge through experiences, but the Core Being that is me, is still here and has always been here and has not changed. Without getting too far into the deep end of the philosophy of it all, allow me to explain what I mean.
By Angela Mabry3 years ago in Fiction
Eli's Project
Rashmi Dube was going to work. Like a billion other 26 yr old men all over the world at 6 AM. But most men didn't have to try and commute via an open-air rickety train alongside a couple of thousand people. Women holding children, men holding huge bags of garbage, and even a woman holding a chicken under one arm. This was a combo of a New York City subway and every rickety bus flying through a jungle in South America. This was the dirty side of Mumbai, India. The side the tourists never saw. Mumbai was a city divided. There was the downtown district, with so much to see and do there. Everything from Museums, Art galleries, and Ancient Temples, to booming nightclubs and Bollywood. And then there was Dharavi.
By Angela Mabry3 years ago in Fiction
The Mystery
Opheliana was sitting at her computer getting some work done. Zoom meetings, paperwork to file, and reports to submit. It was all so tedious and time-consuming. Her butt was getting tired of being in this chair and it was time to take her pain meds again. But, she supposed, it was a privilege to be allowed to work from home. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all that. It helped that her boss was a good friend and approved her request to work remotely quickly. But what else could she have done?
By Angela Mabry3 years ago in Fiction
Eli's Project
Dee got back in her car and then turned left out of the shipyard. The Park was less than ½ mile down Middle Harbor Rd, on the left. As soon as she turned out of the Shipyard, she saw all the flashing lights. The metal bar gate, with its PARK CLOSED sign, was blocking the entrance drive, but an OPD officer was standing there to let official vehicles in and out. From the gate, Dee could see half a dozen squad cars, Sgt. Collins SUV and the Coroner van all parked on the paved circle around the huge metal pole that was the Oakland Mast. The Park Rangers were even here to close down the Park from the public until the Crime Scene could be processed. The main piece of equipment present was the huge firetruck, parked in the grass directly in front of the Mast, with its ladder fully extended. A large white sheet hanging from the end of the ladder blocked whatever was on the top of the mast from view. On the other side of the paved circle, there was a Parks and Rec bucket truck, and she could just make out the slim form of Sundae's partner Mike Rollo, in the bucket up there to the left of the giant sheet. She assumed he was up there snapping pictures and taking samples. Dee pulled into the small parking lot nearby, got out, and walked over to where the Alameda County Coroner, Dr. Harperson, and her boss, Sgt. Collins was standing on the paved circle, necks craned back, intently watching whatever was going on up there behind the sheet.
By Angela Mabry3 years ago in Fiction
Eli's Project
The LAPD had a reputation for misconduct and mishandling of cases. In Detective Madera “Dee” Segura's opinion, it wasn't because of bad officers. You can't judge all the apples on the tree because of a few rotten ones on the ground. In the 15 years, she had lived and worked in L.A, she had seen a lot of horrible things, but she had made friends and allies in the Force. Decent officers just trying to do their job, just like her. Then she moved to Oakland. She didn't necessarily want to leave the LAPD, but the transfer had meant a promotion to Detective and a bit of a slower pace. Of course, Oakland had crime, and horrible things happened here, same as anywhere else. It came down to a matter of scale. Los Angeles had 3.9 million residents and almost 10,000 officers. Oakland, in comparison, only had about 434,000 residents and 750 officers. There, she had been just another Badge, lost in the crowd; here, she could have a career and make a good name for herself. Away from the dark stigma of the LAPD.
By Angela Mabry3 years ago in Fiction
Eli's Project
The shadows of a building are helpful when you are trying to hide, and tonight, the moving shadow of the young woman was very concerned about sticking to the darkness. Sarha slunk along, carefully avoiding the large circles of light underneath the parking lot poles. Moving as fast as she dared through the damp puddles, with the outer wall of the building at her back, her golden eyes were darting to and fro, scanning in front, behind, and all around her. Where WAS he?? She HAD to get off this Dock and away from the Port. She had to find the Greyhound station to get her to Vegas. But she had no idea where she was concerning the gate, entrance, or any other way out. She should never have come here. She should have just saved up the extra money and flown into Vegas Airport like any other normal person. But she had thought it might be fun to travel a bit. To see Los Angeles before going north to Nevada. LOTS of college-age people, all over the world, backpack, hike, travel by bus, or hitchhike. And when she found out that passage on the ship was ½ the price of airfare, well, it made the decision very simple. But, "Hindsight is 20/20" and all that. Stupid, stupid, stupid. That was a Fomorian at the Ship. She knew it. As soon as they made eye contact, she SAW him and she was certain that he SAW her. He had screwed up everything. But why and how could a Fomorian be in this place, escorting the passengers off the ship, in the transport van? This was supposed to be a secure place of safe passage. What was supposed to be the adventure of a lifetime had just become way too adventurous.
By Angela Mabry3 years ago in Fiction
Southern Lady
It's a typical Wednesday afternoon in New York. Not a lot going on, just regular city noises and everyday hustle-bustle. The young woman on the bike is just sliding in and out of people and cars, like a snake in the woods having to navigate around trees and bushes. She's got the earbuds in, shoulder bag on her hip, head down because she's focused on getting to her destination. A couple of stops along the way for a paper, a bagel and a coffee, but eventually she turns down a brownstone street. She stops in front of a particular building, pulls mail out of a box, puts the bike on one shoulder and turns to march down a short set of stairs to the door of her basement apartment. These are just normal daily routines for this young lady, as she confidently moves through her world. But today is about flip on its head.
By Angela Mabry3 years ago in Fiction
