Melia j Ingham
Bio
Stories (3/0)
My Bojack Horseman Experience
On a rainy fall day, I laid, sprawled out on my couch, cocooned in several blankets with a heating pad across my lap. I had no particular reason to be feeling down or lazy, aside from the usual post-graduate, post-apocalyptic anxiety that ruled my life on a daily basis. I scrolled through Netflix, not particularly stirred by any new titles, my mind continuously running through the jobs I want and will never get, the books I want to write but “never have the time” and so on. Eventually, I landed on the adult, animated, series, “Bojack Horseman.” I clicked play in hopes that the show would provide me with a peaceful environment where I could spiral about my future with occasional animal puns to bring me back to the current moment.
By Melia j Ingham2 years ago in Humans
#SeeMeeBleed
BREAKING NEWS: people across the globe panic as climate change devastates thousands of cities. Air quality continues to worsen by the year, despite the discontinuation of fossil fuel use. Temperatures will not stop rising, and despite the thousands of corporations vowing to produce only recyclable products, landfills still overflow, destroying the remaining, precious, ecosystems. In a recent environmental study, it was found that the most prominent products in landfills across the globe are menstrual products such as tampons and pads. With the release of the study, major industries such as TAMPAX and KOTEX are sued for marketing non-recyclable materials in a time where there are no more exceptions.
By Melia j Ingham3 years ago in Fiction
Their World After Death
On a cold, concrete floor under what used to be central Kansas, a priest lays on his back, his arms extended out to both sides. The vibrancy of the flickering, fluorescent lights make his bright, blue, eyes appear as if they are glowing. As hours slowly pass, the priest reminds himself to blink when he feels his eyes become drier than the short, summer grass growing above him. The priest does this every night and has since the day he and the small remainder of humans awoke in the bunker twelve days ago. The priest will continue this nightly routine, his only escape, until he dies of a heart attack four days later.
By Melia j Ingham3 years ago in Fiction