Marie McGrath
Bio
Things that have saved me:
Animals
Music
Sense of Humor
Writing
Stories (161)
Filter by community
Future Fragments. Top Story - December 2024.
Benny wondered when he would realize it for himself. He’d read and heard about it, but didn’t believe any of it at first. However, it had been scientifically and astrally confirmed and, though he wasn’t a man of Science, who was he to dispute the academics and researchers?
By Marie McGrathabout a year ago in Futurism
The Daze of Whine and Dozes
I went to boarding school. That sounds extremely fancy but that wasn’t the reason I was sent there. I was shy…to a crippling degree. By the age of 12, I would often start to cry if anyone asked me anything or even spoke to me. Mostly people new to me, but with the odd familiar folk, at school and at large. It was paralyzing and suffocating.
By Marie McGrathabout a year ago in Humor
Clock around the Block
It was Summer 1973, at the height of ‘The Troubles’ in Northern Ireland, a sectarian war waged against British rule. That is, admittedly, a much too simple description of what was, and remains, a wholly political and historical conflict. But there I was.
By Marie McGrathabout a year ago in Humans
AFib
When the CardioPulmonary Specialist formed the words 'Atrial Fibrillation', my initial reaction was to laugh. This response seemed to throw him. Had he been expecting shock, horror, grief, hysteria?It sounded so grownup, so much the preserve of the aged, how could it possibly be something remotely touching my life?
By Marie McGrathabout a year ago in FYI
MSNBC - My Saviour NBC
This past week, those of us (I believe there's an 'us') for whom MSNBC is a preferred watch, received some sad, if not unexpected, news. Parent company, Comcast, is spinning off a parcel of its shows - as cable TV gives way to 20-second sound bites on social media - and MSNBC is among the chopped.
By Marie McGrathabout a year ago in Confessions
Work In Progress. Top Story - November 2024.
Wisps of sunshine, lingering in anticipation of twilight, filtered softly through the cracked blinds in Chloë’s room. She shifted again in the bed. After what seemed a few days, her hips and back were complaining, loudly and long, about this forced incarceration. Had it been three days, or four? Or five? No matter the length, it had been far too long.
By Marie McGrathabout a year ago in Chapters
