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)
Smoke
Isabelle knew there were, at least three, homeless men living behind the library. She didn't want to encourage it, but she had adopted the habit of personally taking her partially eaten lunch out to the dumpster each day. She would talk to herself as she walked the triple bagged sack of barely touched food to the dumpster that sat near the alley.
By Shawn Ingram3 years ago in Humans
Paintbrush
With the tip of his paintbrush, he soaked up one of my tears. It had been our yearly tradition, something we did on our anniversary. Every year, for the past eleven years we've been married, my husband paints me, naked, in sweet, languid repose, upon our bed.
By Shawn Ingram3 years ago in Families
The Ungrel Invasion
I feel like I'm walking back home along the rim of the galaxy. I know! Melodramatic right? But it's how I feel. When the Ungrels landed their ships on the White House lawn back in 2047, we knew something was very wrong. There had been too many questions left unanswered. Why hadn't we attacked them? What did they want? How did they possibly know that of all the places to land on earth, the White House is probably the most fear-inducing? Such a tactic shows intelligence. It shows cunning, audacity, boldness, and confidence.
By Shawn Ingram3 years ago in Horror
Welcome to Garrettland, Population ONE - Part 4 of 4
DECEMBER 16, 2039 Garret sits inside the cozy bungalow he had been issued for his personal use. 'For as long as he needs,' Travis had adamantly insisted the clerk manually add that stipulation to his registration form. It is very comfortable.
By Shawn Ingram3 years ago in Horror
Welcome to Garrettland, Population ONE - Part 2 of 4
DECEMBER 9, 2039 Garrett rolls off the oversized couch he called his bed for the night. He feels well-rested. Then he remembers. The girl. She's still out there, he hopes; the enigmatic little girl that had saved his life possibly. Still alone and he jumps up. Maybe today he will find her. Yesterday he thought he might have picked up a couple of clues but none of them had panned out.
By Shawn Ingram3 years ago in Horror
By the Red Chair
"The fabric on that chair is red and blotchy," I say. Without my glasses, the chair is only vaguely familiar. She ignores me of course. She's ignored me since I first kneeled down here at her feet I don't know how long ago. It's been a while I'm certain of that much. It feels like hours, maybe longer. The whole time she has cried. It always kills me, anytime she cries. The first time, I remember it, we had just strolled through a park. We were driving away from the park, in her car, she was driving, and she was telling me about her daughter. Apparently, the relationship is rocky, problematic. She thinks I don't see her tears or the way she looks away from me, but I do; I always do.
By Shawn Ingram3 years ago in Psyche