fact or fiction
Is it science fact or science fiction? Futurism presents both sides to determine the truth.
Gemini
I don't put much stock in astrology. As tweens, my friends and I would read our horoscopes and check our signs for insights into our, and each others', personalities. Just for fun. Some were right on, some were way off. I don't think any of the prognostications ever came true. Really, that the same attributes apply to every single person born within a particular 30-day period seems to be nonsense. Add to that the daily predictions of what is going to happen to each and every one of the people under a certain sign, whether they are 7 or 87, and you have a system that is impossible to believe in. That being said, I thought it would be intriguing to revisit my astrological sign and see how closely it fits my actual adult life. I had to look up my sign on the great font of all things true - the internet.
By Lori Stremble5 years ago in Futurism
We Thought We Were The Only Ones
Leaving the bodega on the corner of Bushwick and Myrtle, a brother in all black, crossed the street headed down Bushwick. David is in a rush to get back home, a rundown brownstone, that was beautiful and spruced up in the late '80s. Now it is in need of a new roof and renovation. He’s in a rush to get back home so he can meet someone who is helping him with something very important. As he arrives home, he puts his bag of snacks filled with vegan cookies and an 8-ounce green tea on the kitchen counter. He then grabs his little black book, which has a soft cover with rounded corners and ivory-colored pages; along with an ‘In case of loss’ notice to record your contact details and offer a reward to anyone who finds your precious notes, which in David’s case would be warranted if he ever lost this precious little black book.
By Nekaybaw Moorer5 years ago in Futurism
Turn A Page to Eternal Life
It’s hard to believe it’s been almost a full week since she died. Just last Wednesday she and I were having tea. The next morning, I received a phone call informing me that her first client of the day found her body on the kitchen floor. No certain cause of death other than natural causes. Since then the obituary was written and released, her services were beautiful, and just moments ago we put her to rest in her mausoleum. She was 100, almost on the dot. We were celebrating her birthday the day before as I was out of town on a work trip and my sister, the only other living relative she had blown her off. Now my sister Anna and I sit in the office of Kevin Rockford, my Grandmother’s estate lawyer.
By Grant Draughn5 years ago in Futurism
Thunderbird Rising
An empty light poured down through the darkness, jagged boards biting at its edges, while the dust of a hundred years danced in and out of view across the shadows of the abandoned lair. Puetsuku waivered as the dust began to settle and sat still in the echoing silence until she was clear headed enough to check, “Are you hurt, or are you injured?” A subtle flex of her pose set off aches throughout her body, but none of the sharper alarms that might indicate a break, and she began to relax as she got up and reached for her rucksack. She looked up to gauge how far she had fallen and counted herself lucky. The cave was dark but for the skylight she’d just introduced, and the domed chasm seemed to hold its breath in the beckoning shadows, full of the secrets she’d come here to find, spurred by the clues in that ancient journal which she’d found buried in the foundation of her ancestral home. The lockbox had held only a tomahawk pipe, a ceremonial fan, a crow feather, a pocket watch, a strip of red cloth, and the small black book.
By Nyce Playz5 years ago in Futurism
The Catalyst
How stupid could I be? To think, that I’d be the one to make it out, to overcome the odds. I’d done it all the correct way, made it through high school with all the correct grades, made it to a prestigious university and for what? To have my ideas stolen right from under me by the first white male who is about as qualified as my doormat.
By Maya Pilgram5 years ago in Futurism
The Little Black Book
The dark, gloomy clouds were looming all day. The grumpy, but incredibly rich man, Earl Everyl Jackson, hoped that the clouds would part before his important dinner party tonight. His chef refuses to cook when it is dark outside. Earl had no idea why he had not fired this terrible chef. The food that she made was not good. In fact, Mr. Jackson believed that it might be the worst food ever created. Although after all the years of travels around the world, Earl’s chef was the only constant. She never complained once, but there were times that Earl thought she might explode in a rage and quit. She never did. Actually, she never once spoke a word to him other than a simple, “Yes, Mr. Jackson,”. Earl Everyl assumed that he had not fired her because he enjoyed the fact that she was there.
By Becca Whealdon5 years ago in Futurism
