fact or fiction

Is it a fact or is it merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores relationship myths and truths to get your head out of the clouds and back into romantic reality.

Diary of a Homeless Woman, Name Abigail
As I was walking along K Street and Connecticut Avenue, in Washington, D.C., near Farragut North Metro, I noticed a woman sitting on the cold cement sidewalk. It was extremely cold with a freezing temperature of 32°. I am not sure what made me look in that direction, but I am glad I did. For a brief 10 seconds, I could not take my eyes off this woman. So, I walked across the street in her direction, just to see if this homeless woman needed help.
By Antoinette Davis5 years ago in Humans
The $100 Cover
My brother was very creative; in fact, in the business world he was almost seen as a genius with new, completely unusual ideas. His name was Roy and he was just a bit younger than me.
By Vicki A Fox5 years ago in Humans
Daddy's Duck
Jamillah James meandered up and down the rows of the bookstore. She walked as if in a ritualized trance, seeking a sign from her father. But he had been dead for three weeks now and memorialized three days ago. She had played the role of the dutiful first born and managed the business of burying the dead and tying up a life that spanned seventy-seven years.
By Queena Hall5 years ago in Humans
A Second Chance
It’s just another day for Roger Blake. The 46-year-old storage hunter hops into his truck, looking for bolt cutters to pop the lock of the storage unit he won at an auction. Just another day. Another family out of their stuff. Half the time he finds nothing of value. The other half he finds an item or two of value and throws away what’s worthless to him but probably meant the world to the poor schmuck who lost it. Photo albums. Baby clothes. Junk.
By Michael Andersen 5 years ago in Humans
Glue Trap Suburbia
All the homes in Cassus come with a white picket fence and a graveyard on the front lawn. Decorated with flowers and photos of bygone days, each tombstone is a museum of the great American dream. For generations, the graves were left undisturbed, bodies resting peacefully beneath the earth. That was until I arrived this morning, shovel in hand.
By Jack Silver5 years ago in Humans
The Little Black Book
Exhausted and on autopilot, Gerrard trudged into his apartment, placed his keys in the porcelain holder and the black book right next to it on the console table in the entryway. Without bothering to turn on the lights, he flipped the slit on the doorknob and turned the deadbolt above it to lock the door behind him. There was barely enough ambient light filtering in through the window blinds from outside, to discern the distinction of the objects in his apartment by their silhouettes but not bright enough to ascertain their details. He went to his refrigerator, grabbed a bag of frozen peas, held it at the back of his head, and continued languidly into his bedroom, right to the foot of the bed, and paused. He seemed fixated on the artwork, mounted on the wall, above the headboard. Seemingly imbibing it in silent contemplation, like an art savant, except, his gaze held no focus and it was dark. Whatever he was looking at, whatever he was seeing was not in front of him!
By HenRoc5 years ago in Humans
Diane
My babushka has been dead for almost two years. She had looked as frail as the royals in Egyptian coffins from ten thousands BC, with their last minutes wrapped with care, their lives preserved for eternity.
By Travis A Yanes5 years ago in Humans
Finding My Feet
The house was quiet as I sat staring around the room. Grandpops had carried my luggage from the car and into the downstairs guest room. He had gently placed the large suitcase on the bed before he stood quietly, wringing his hands together, his eyes misty and blinking rapidly.
By Tina Evans5 years ago in Humans
October 26th, 2028
Her fingers snapped through the pages of the little black book. Her lips stung with salt. She couldn't stop mindlessly eating corn chips between each scan of the page. It wasn't filling the hole, but the barrage dulled the pain. Eventually, the greasy slick on her fingers became heavy enough that she needed a napkin. Instead, she scrubbed her fingers on the side of a stack of bills held with a pale yellow band labeled “$10,000.” She then pulled out one of the bills and dabbed at the corners of her mouth like a napkin. “Baller.” She said to herself and laughed.
By J.S. Kohout5 years ago in Humans
Head's Up
James turned right onto the winding gravel driveway toward his grandfather’s house. Rows of trees lined each side that usually had an enchanting feeling to them, but not today. Today, even with the brilliant light from the setting sun, the drive had no magic. It was beautiful, but not in the way that glows – in an empty sort of way.
By Bobby Campbell5 years ago in Humans
Veinte Mil
For not the first time that day, and certainly not the last, Steve frowned at his bank statement. He’d been doing so, on this occasion, for the past five minutes at least. To all outward appearances his frown was drawn from great concentration – thoughts barrelling through his mind as he thrashed out some complex hypothetical matter, perhaps. Yet this was merely an illusion. Steve’s mind was curiously vacant of thought, despite the many rather pressing questions that the statement before him presented. Namely, why. Why was it how it was? He’d written off the likelihood of a transfer in error, as it seemed simply too deliberate. Which only left him more confused.
By Dee5 years ago in Humans
Reborn
The wind whipped wildly across the hills, tossing leaves to scatter amongst the various debris. With one hand gripping upon her hood she trekked downwards, feet stumbling on the loose gravel, she dared not look back. There within her arm, tucked between it and her chest was a dark, worn black leather bound book that she clung to desperately. The long tattered material of her dress danced between her bare feet as she slid down the gravel embankment running toward the coast. With each crash of waves atop the shore becoming louder as she approached the salt spray embraced her with it’s trickle across cloth and flesh. Suddenly the echo of a screech could be heard in the distance, a heart wrenching guttural wail that gripped her at her core. The sound was so powerful it was as if her body responded instantly, crumbling to the ground as it seemed to take her breath from her.
By Lilo Dallas5 years ago in Humans