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.'
Is Crazy Contagious?
At the end of the month, when Joanie came home from the hospital she was sweet and cheerful like she always was when she took her medicine. She was on something new, Depakote this time. She came home in someone else's clothes probably from the hospital lost and found or something someone donated, but it didn't matter. Joanie was a natural beauty.
By Robin Jessie-Green5 years ago in Families
126 Maple
“We have to let you go, John” his manager said, in a firm unwavering voice. "I understand" John said as he stared at the clock on the wall. It’s almost lunch time he thought to himself, He could hear the steady sound of the second hand ticking. “feel free to finish out the day” his manager said as John turned for the door. The ticking sound slowly faded as it was being drowned out by office chatter. John did understand because he has been here before. This always happens on a Friday, John thought to himself as he placed the last of his belongings neatly into the white file box. This time there would be no awkward goodbyes, he just did not have the strength. The entire office was now making their way over to the breakroom to sing happy birthday to a coworker. This was John’s chance to get away. He was not going to finish out the day. Slinging his worn leather satchel over his shoulder, he grabbed the box and hurried to the elevator.
By John Taylor5 years ago in Families
Hidden History
On my twelfth birthday, everything was turned upside down. Up until then, I had lived the quiet, boring life of a peasant girl in the Kingdom of Dutton. I loved our beautiful countryside of sprawling, lush greens and an array of colorful wildflowers. Growing up on my grandparent’s farm, I’d always spent hours playing outside and running around in the vast greenery. My mother was always busy attending to the crops, while my grandfather took care of the cattle. My father was a blacksmith and would leave early in the mornings to his shop, returning just before dinner.
By Danielle Ricciardi5 years ago in Families
I'll Know It When I See It
“I’ll know it when I see it.” I look up and over my shoulder, and realize with a start that it was only a memory of my grandfather’s voice. I am browsing a rummage sale, my hand lightly grazing the tops of old books, but I’m not really looking at anything. I remember these sales, a Sunday tradition of my grandfather’s. It feels like I am ten years old again.
By Christina Blanchette5 years ago in Families
Bad Girl House
Returning to school in January of 1996, for my second semester of college, I was hoping to find my friend Connie sometime during the day. We eventually did find each other, and it made me feel good to have someone to sit with during my breaks between classes. Soon after the semester began, a few people from her public speaking class came with her to the student union. One was a short, round fellow, who I think was close to our own age. The other was a short, fit, balding guy of twenty-six who I will call John. Keep in mind that I was still several months away from turning nineteen at this time. At first meeting, John seemed confident and charismatic, but at the same time no-nonsense. Like I normally did, when we hung out in the student union I just sat and listened to the people around me talk to each other. John complained about being penalized for missing classes when he had other responsibilities. He called them adult responsibilities. He talked about having commitments for his job and with his young son. From early on, these things illustrated his disrespect for any type of authority. He felt that he shouldn’t have to answer to his professors, and that he should be able to attend class when it was most convenient for him. It didn’t matter to him that he was required to attend his classes, and that not being there would impact his grades. I would imagine that he had extremely rude interactions with his teachers because of this. John also had plenty of nasty things to say about his ex-wife whenever he discussed his son. From the very first thing I ever heard him say about her, everything in their past was her fault. She was the reason that they were divorced. She was the reason that he didn’t see his son as often as he thought he should. She was the reason he had to pay child support that she wasn’t using the way he thought that she should.
By Kathy Sees5 years ago in Families
The Scavenger Hunt
She had lived in the house on 39th street near Seattle for as long as she could remember. But the woods behind her house was Anna's happy place. Weather permitting, she could often be found there after school and on weekends, studying or just sitting and appreciating the seasonal views. If she turned to her left, she could see the back of her house and other houses nearby. If she looked to the right, she could see deeper woods and the snow-capped mountains in the distance.
By Rhonda Schneider5 years ago in Families
Miranda's Botanical Garden
It was all in a dream. The dream which existed for 5 consecutive days conjured the most agony Miranda had ever experienced. She was mourning the loss of her mother. A mother that was stoic and quite shrewd but was the most important being in her life. As an only child, Miranda’s mother instilled the importance of expressive writing and time management, things Miranda failed miserably at. She would do anything for her mother but could not get over the fact her mother’s sudden death left her with no further instructions on life. Her mother was Meredith Ladson, an orator, accomplished author, and scholar. It was much to live up to. Although free from her mother’s discernment, she now desperately craved answers to questions she had never imagined asking. Not one heirloom remained. There were no photos or handwritten notes that Miranda could cling to. Her mother’s home and belongings were ravaged in a fire just weeks before she succumbed to an illness. At 30 years old, Miranda had not become an Attorney, an amazing writer, nor any profession that aligned with her mother’s expectations. She was unmarried and childless, but she exuded love. Miranda loved people, nature, and she lived haphazardly in a way that frightened her mother but was beautiful. Unfortunately, Miranda’s free spiritedness did not prepare her for losing the only constant in her life.
By Martin Bass5 years ago in Families
The little black book challenge
Little Black Book Challenge “The painting” Rose got up at he same time she woke up every day, 5:55 am. It’s like she had a tiny alarm clock installed in her brain, with the exact time, minutes and seconds. She went in the bathroom to wash her face and brush her long brown hair. She was gazing at her reflection in the mirror and noticing her fine wrinkles and were she supposed to have laughing lines, she had sad lines; that reminded her of the sad mouths the clowns paint on their faces.
By Evanna Skartsaris5 years ago in Families
The Sunset Surprise
It turns out I have been living a lie. But I am getting ahead of myself. My name is Danielle Jones. I live in a small town in upstate New York. Some would call it a postcard town. Nothing really ever happens here. Usually you’re born here and you die here. No one usually ever leaves. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. Secrets are something that exists in books or more for the bigger towns and cities. I had none...or so I thought. I grew up thinking my life was an open book. Nothing extraordinary. Good upper middle class family, only child you know the typical boring suburbia.
By Sara James5 years ago in Families
