fact or fiction
Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about our family dynamics, traditions, and if there's such thing as a 'perfect family.'
The Little Black Book
“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Elisa! Happy Birthday to you!” with a deep breath Elisa blew out her red candles on a round chocolate cake and made a wish. “What did you wish Elisa?” asked her parents, but she refused to tell them or else it would not come true, so she believed.
By Grace Thomas 5 years ago in Families
The Dirt Road to Eternia Lake
Despite his “safety first!” cruising speed and the tired engine of Dad’s ‘72 Chevy, the winding highway curves made my stomach churn. I slammed my fist against the door’s peeling leather – an effort to make the back window crank ease up – and scrunched my nose at the sudden blast of Redwood sap, motor oil, and forgotten cigarettes. This was a long, tortuous drive to nowhere.
By Christy Bors5 years ago in Families
The New House
It was hers. Finally, hers! After weeks of waiting and hoping, piles of paperwork, hours of praying, repeated meetings with the bank and the relator. Finally, the house was hers! She stood quietly inside the front door and slowly looked around, taking it all in. Gently she closed the door and took a step forward, her boot clattering on the solid wood floor of the living room. Stopping, she looked down at her boots, smiling in total contentment at the sound as she imagined the boys running down the halls in their bare feet in the mornings.
By Jill Wedige Gettert5 years ago in Families
Aster's Inheritance
Aster stared straight ahead, refusing to even blink, just in case the tears burning against the back of her eyes fell. Just a little while longer. She only had to hold on for a few minutes more before this horrid ordeal would be over. She squirmed in the ugly overstuffed chair as the lawyer droned on and on. Suddenly a thought struck her; she didn’t have to stay! She could leave and she would. The mistress employing her was dead; all her hard work had boiled down to a small, square, rather plain black notebook. What was the point of hearing how the old lady had divvied up her assets among her brood? She clearly had not been nearly as valued as she had once thought.
By Lady Coy Haddock5 years ago in Families
Unbreakable
“ A Hustla’s Love” Walking in the bathroom and seeing my best friend on the floor covered in blood I knew something was wrong. So as I sat down beside her I asked her what happened she started crying. I then knew something was seriously wrong. Beside her was a gun and a knife covered in blood. I knew it wasn't hers so I didn't even ask that question. I just held my friend as tight as I could.
By Tecoria Savage5 years ago in Families
As Long As We Have Each Other
How could such a gift be taken away so soon, so unexpectedly? Never will you hear a cry like that; each moan pulling you under, each whimper longing with remorse. And yet he could feel the warmth radiating from the hospital room as her family surrounded her. There they were, speechless, overwrought with grief, silent. But there they were because the very least, and most one could do in that situation is simply be there. He didn't know them personally but knew this was the closest they'd been in some time. Despite the tragedy he knew the love filling that room would slowly mend the pain like sunlight blossoming a flower.
By Jason Hall5 years ago in Families
Now you're gone, mom
My mother’s face was always soft. She was one of those women who always was coiffed and manicured to perfection. Rouge lipstick, dark brown coloured short hair, perfect ruby red nails. Her skin smelled of a time-gone-by; a Bill Blass perfume she had always worn since her days living in the Pierre, New York when my grandfather was vice president of ABC.
By Jessica Patterson5 years ago in Families
Sunshine & Moonlight
Looking back, it was a simple action. I saw it lying there under the paint-chipped bus seat, half concealed by a plastic bag. I didn’t even think of it as an act of kindness, but more of just the right thing to do. It wasn’t old or terribly worn, but I could tell it had been around. Little did I know just how many hands it would someday touch, and how many hearts. How many tears might fall down onto its weathering cover. I turned it over in my hands, hopeful that a name might be inside. When I opened it, I saw neat cursive scrawled over the first page.
By Cherie Robidoux5 years ago in Families
Dear Dr. Seuss
August 10, 2015 Dear Dr. Seuss, When I was a child we talked about all the places I would go, where this head full of brain would tell my shoes full of feet where to go. I’m sorry to report Dr. Seuss, against your wise council, I got held up in the one place you most forewarned me against, the waiting place.
By U.B. Light5 years ago in Families
In case of loss, please return to:
Beads of sweat prickled Becca’s forehead as she crossed the street. Despite the radiating heat, she was relieved to escape from the heady scent of geranium and crisp air conditioning of the therapist's office. What a waste of time!
By Ali Ansell5 years ago in Families
