Merrie Jackson
Bio
The youngest of 12 children, country girl from West Virginia, been writing since childhood, trying to get published. I'm a hefty brown woman with a quirky sense of humor - I hear things at right angles and often says whatever comes to mind.
Stories (19)
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The Chance of a Lifetime
Walking casually down Olive Street, Carl savors the last of his sweet tea from lunch as he rounds the corner of the Bank & Trust building, where a light breeze caresses his face. This is a good day! He's off for the next three days and plans to connect with friends up state. As he passes a pay phone, it begins to ring. Startled, he stares at it as if it were a weird monster about to spring upon him! Glancing around, no one is rushing to answer it, so he relaxes and walks on, even as his thoughts shift to wonder, 'should he answer it?' It can’t possibly be for him, all of his friends and family call his cell phone, beside how would anyone know when he might possibly walk past this phone? Who, uses pay phones in this day and age?
By Merrie Jackson5 years ago in Humans
Alone
The trees swayed violently creaking loudly as the winds of the storm whips them back and forth as it continues to wreak havoc in the forest. The winds create mini tornadoes from the leaves littering the ground. In an almost blinding flash of light, a small figure is visible for only a moment as it struggles to remain upright. Blown this way and that by the wind, the figure is soaked to the skin and shivering. Breathing out clouds of cold air, it is quickly whisked away by the wind. Taking refuge in a clump of bushes, the figure huddles close to the ground trying to stop shivering – she must find shelter!
By Merrie Jackson5 years ago in Futurism
One Night
A door slammed, echoing down the long hallway, to a bedroom on the back of the house! Startled, Phoebe awakens quickly from a deep sleep. What was that?! A door slammed – someone is in her house! Quietly, she climbs out of bed and walks down the long hallway toward the front of the house, knowing it like the back of her hand, she easily moves through the inky darkness. An odd clinking sound and several short light flashes greet her, as she rounds the corner into the Dining room/Living room area. The outside dust-to-dawn light shines through the dining room windows illuminating the dark silhouette of a man standing there!
By Merrie Jackson5 years ago in Criminal
Thoughts of Self and COVID-19
What does it mean to be African American? To me it means remembering my roots, my ancestors, where they came from. But I have a problem – my ancestors are not just from Africa, some are from Scotland or Ireland, some from Germany and some are Native American, in short, I am all mixed up. So, to simply call myself African American is to deny the rest of my roots! I can’t say I’m African German Scottish Native American American, that would take too long, which is why I simply call myself ‘American’.
By Merrie Jackson5 years ago in Humans
Homeless and Beyond
In 2010, I lost my job and my apartment. Before, when life went wrong, my family helped out, this time however I was on my own at forty-nine years old. So, I packed my car and drove to a women’s shelter. There, I was given a bed and three meals-a-day. With no rent or utilities to pay, no food or clothes to buy, it quickly became a hard habit to break called Complacency… when doing nothing all day is okay and the desire to work fades! The first week I stayed close to the shelter, mostly from shock and the uncertainty of my situation. Never before had I felt truly alone. Never before had I felt unwanted or unloved. Never before had I felt so unprotected. Off and on for the next eight years, I was homeless, staying on a person’s couch for a time was still considered homeless because it wasn’t permanent.
By Merrie Jackson5 years ago in Motivation
Fishing
I love to fish and did it often in the Greenbrier River which runs near my childhood home, in Talcott, West Virginia. Fishing can be a simple process, armed with an old fishing rod without a reel, but with a twig taped to the top of the pole as a crossbar with rainbow-colored fishing line wrapped around it. Attached to the end of the line is a hook, about four inches above that is a sinker and sometimes about four inches above that is a bobber. With a container of night crawlers; some extra line, an old leather glove and some extra hooks in a small tin box, I’m ready to go.
By Merrie Jackson5 years ago in Lifehack
The Long Odd Package
It’s Summer Vacation! Bob and Alice are packing to visit the seashore with Mama, Daddy, Uncle Jack and Aunt Evelyn. They own a bungalow there. Uncle Jack and Mama went ahead with everyone’s trunks to open the bungalow. Today, Bob and Alice will meet Daddy at the train station for their trip there. Aunt Evelyn will come later.
By Merrie Jackson5 years ago in Families
