Melissa Ingoldsby
Stories (1327)
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Aurora shift . Top Story - February 2023.
1950, June Southwark, London The fusspot, the grumbling old man, the one I can’t stand to be without but also sometimes roll my eyes by all of his stickler ways—-had his hands firmly planted on his hips—his eyes in a solemnly petty position.
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Fiction
Jane Eyre
Dear Jane, Good evening, my dear. I hope you are well. I hope you sleep well, and I hope you feel good in the morning. Red rocks cascade my visions against a tumbling, mixed bath of foamy, windy sea, and I picture your luminous eyes staring in between the sun and clouds, so gleaming and misty.
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Poets
To my Jane
My dear Jane, Your poor shoulders are so strong and yet I do wish your heavy loads could be unburdened. I know that one day you’ll be able to be carried away and taken care of. I can’t help but say that I wish to be that man for you, deeply. I wish you to find your true flame, even as we hold a cherished string that cannot be broken.
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Poets
