Vayda Ingersoll
Stories (3/0)
Samsara
Her back to the door, Andromeda sat at the marble bar top picking at her cuticles. It was new to her, coming to a bar she did not recognize from her normal haunts. She had recently begun her trip through spiritual awakening however she still valued the mundane trips to the bar to indulge in drinking away the pain of the material world around her. Elixirs, her bar of choice for the evening, was a new establishment that had materialized within the past few months and found instant popularity. Elixir’s drinks were strong, their food tasty and the full bar was a show of comradery between patrons. Friends were found in all walks of life and Elixir’s was the place to make new acquaintances.
By Vayda Ingersoll 2 years ago in Earth
A World of My Own
The chaos and every day hustle and bustle of life swarms through my head at all hours. Cosmic stresses that society has conditioned us to believe create a “well lived” life drive up my blood pressure and circle my head like annoying birds begging to be fed. I get up, go to work and slave away; a pawn in a flawed system. The cycle repeats, over and over and over until my mind threatens to burst from the mundane ecosystem posing a hostile takeover if I cannot escape. My saving grace, my solitude and creativity that threatens to burst forth like a geyser from a hot spring pushes its way to the surface and now, in the quiet hours in the comforts of my home, I am alive.
By Vayda Ingersoll 3 years ago in Journal
The Book Club
Shelly had no luck expressing her love in the three dimensional realm. Social media encounters with single men online had become a hobby for her to study the dating game, opening herself up to discovering what she had been longing for. Nights alone at her loft were spent with her only companion, a black and grey bengal cat named Alfalfa. Sitting in solitude at her desk contemplating life, Alfalfa would chirp at the door insistent on taking council with some other creature looming in the outside world. After a failed love attempt, Shelly would turn to her books and a glass of wine, immersing herself into characters who could achieve what she could not. When she wasn’t reading she was meditating, working to manifest the true things she wanted out of life. On the rare event that she took a break from functioning at a higher consciousness, she would venture out with acquaintances to a bar or two, but they never amounted to more than that. She was ready for her true significant other to enter her world. He would be likened to a martini, love shaken with tranquility, no ice.
By Vayda Ingersoll 3 years ago in Humans