Shawn Ingram
Bio
In January 2021, I contracted the virus du jour. I thought I was going to die. For three weeks, all I did was sleep, moan, and dream.
The following month I joined VOCAL.media. I've published over 150 sories so far!
Stories (118/0)
Welcome to Garrettland, Population ONE – Part 1 of 4
Within a year of the zombie virus outbreak in 2029, nationwide martial law had been implemented. The whole country went on lockdown. Cities were cordoned off to help maintain order. Strict curfews were implemented. Food distribution networks that operated with all the stellar efficiency that one normally associates with a top-heavy, bloated bureaucracy sprang up everywhere. The first year of the zombie virus outbreak had caused the deaths of nearly 100 million Americans.
By Shawn Ingram3 years ago in Horror
Dancing with Covid-19
March 9, 2021 (this morning) CRYING IN MY CAR I sat in my car and silently cried tears of happiness. I just received my first vaccination for Covid-19 and feel like huge weights have dropped from my shoulders. Also, I think I feel a deep (and it is hoped, an abiding) sense of gratitude for this shot! I had Covid-19 in January. A retroactive realization of perhaps just how close to death I had come. There's nothing special about my experience other than it is my experience. But my story isn't especially tragic.
By Shawn Ingram3 years ago in Longevity
The Second Door
The god idly thinks on occasion that it might be next. Though what 'next' means, the god would not be able to say. Exhaling, the god sinks into the pose; the god's body is a cacophony of pain. A quilt work of suffering, angst and despair. People think being a god is easy, that you are omnipotent, that you don't feel pain, that you can do anything. None of that is accurate. The god exhales again, sinks deeper into the pose. The god is forever scanning the sensations in the body. The god exhales once more, relaxing even further into the pose.
By Shawn Ingram3 years ago in Futurism
Apple Communion
My daughter walks over to me. I'm still lying in our hammock. When she reaches me, I slide over and sit in the hammock sideways, gesture with a head nod, wordlessly asking her if she wants to join me. She doesn't of course. This is how it starts. It's always the same. She walks over, no words, I ask her to sit (with no words), she declines. Then she pulls the scarf from her head; her red hair falls around her neck and shoulders. She gestures like some vaudeville magician, carefully showing me both sides of her navy-blue silk scarf. Next, she dangles the scarf with two fingers while she uses two fingers from her other hand to grasp at the silk and pull it slowly through her fingers. She repeats this gesture. The subtext here is 'look, there's nothing contained within the folds of my scarf.' Still part of the ritual; always the same. Next, with impeccable timing, she again grasps the silk by two corners, quickly shows me the front and back several times. Finally, she extends one hand under the silk and lets the material parachute, slowly settling over her little palm, her little fingers discernible through the silk. The other hand emerges and she shows me both sides of this hand too while cheekily grinning at me. That hand then grasps one corner of the silk and I feel my chest tighten as my eyes go wide. This is rapture for me. She quickly pulls the silk aside and in the center of her little palm, where it has no logical reason or right for being, is a red delicious apple; a big juicy one. A little bigger than the one she produced last time if my memory serves.
By Shawn Ingram3 years ago in Families
Prometheus 21
Early in the Prometheus 20's mission, before his 'accident,' Jones had made a fuss, asking questions about exposure levels and radiation poisoning. Then Jones lost his right arm on one of the larger exterior service armatures and bleed to death in space. After that no one asked any more questions about radiation levels. We aren't near any major stars at the moment but as the eggheads seem to think, most of space is just filled with radiation. Most of it was just remnants from the Big Bang. I'm just a grunt, I don't know about any of that. I just load, unload, and maintain. Lather, rinse, repeat. Day after day after day.
By Shawn Ingram3 years ago in Horror