
Melissa Ingoldsby
Stories (1317)
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Unconscious bias… uncomfortable prejudice: a character study
I wrote this short story four years ago. Here is the link to the original story. I have chosen this particular story because it has been one of my least popular, most criticized and more controversial.
By Melissa Ingoldsby11 months ago in Critique
Stay in your lane
In Florida, summer was just starting, with the edge of spring just a quiet whisper as the intense humid air hit the duo. Driving with the windows open was intolerable. The wind that swept through the pair felt like a hot gush of mushy, muddy mist. Avon Park had a seedy underbelly, but so did much of Florida if you looked closely.
By Melissa Ingoldsby11 months ago in Fiction
Pulverized . Top Story - March 2025.
The little things happen when all else is pulverized, the big things close up and crumble Into the dust of space The little bits that are a part of the nebulous universe, the atoms that form the core of your very existence
By Melissa Ingoldsby11 months ago in Poets
When I see you in my dreams . Top Story - March 2025.
When I saw him the second time, it was quiet, save for the regulars’ idle chat, in hushed whispers, excitement lacing their words, bouncing in jittery waves. Whether it was from their conversation or the anticipated performance, I didn’t know. The small stage in front was still and dark.
By Melissa Ingoldsby12 months ago in Beat
Soft thunder
Dear Jane, Did you ever see the evidence of winter start with soft thunder and the sun blooming through the gray, listless clouds? I find the snow eerie. The ice crystals that settle down inside the once lush landscape of green refresh me yet again, I feel a tormenting sensation of nostalgia for something that never existed.
By Melissa Ingoldsby12 months ago in History
Closed up
i am sewn up, stitched tight I can't bring myself to open Each stitch is tight, hurt so terribly to tie together and the indifferent airs made them even tear a little bit but still intact just barely In fact, the stitches are barely holding even though—i refuse to open.
By Melissa Ingoldsby12 months ago in Poets
