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.
Take the Pill
Do you ever wake with paresthesia? If it’s in the leg, and there’s an urgent urinary matter, you’re likely dreading the twenty hops and hobbles to the bathroom without all of you collapsing from the pressure—all the worse if you experience “pins and needles” as your leg nerves “awaken”.
By Laura K Zielinski5 years ago in Humans
A Room Full of Demons
A Room Full of Demons by Mark Carpan Rebecca Griffen sat quietly at the small kitchen table in her Chicago apartment. She had poured herself a cup of hot tea to help calm her nerves. Her wrinkled hands shook as she brought the steaming cup to her lips. Looking down, she examined the numerous age spots that peppered her hands. The large blue veins that rose up from her skin and the exaggerated, protruding knuckles reminded her of why this day had come. She pulled her sleeves down over her wrists. There was a bit of a chill in the air this morning. In the background was the constant, soothing ticking of her mantle clock.
By Mark Carpan5 years ago in Humans
Persephone
The turtle ponderously makes its way thru the forest, one leg after another, one everlasting step at a time. Overhead, the clouds roll across the partially hidden sky, obscured by the semi-dense canopy of oak, hickory, and pine. The branches of such blown by melancholy notes of a subtle, cool wind. In this moment’s breeze, one might ask, is this some ordinary turtle on some ordinary journey? Suffice to note, and suffice to say, this is no ordinary turtle. Perhaps this turtle comes from a long line of wise and noble turtles, some might even say handsome or beautiful turtles, as turtles fashion-wise may go. But we are not here to judge these qualities of this turtle or its kin, however, we, a select few, have been given a glimpse into this turtle’s happenings, its wonderings… for a time upon a time and again. Why, you may ask? Why indeed?
By Michael Root5 years ago in Humans
A Night To Forget
I raise my head up from my pillow; my head still pounding from the night before. Did I have that fourth drink? Or was it five? I place my hands on my head and rub my temples. I really need to stop doing this. Dragging myself out of bed I make my way to the kitchen. Sitting at a small table scattered with my unpaid bills, what a dump. Pulling out my phone I decide to check my bank statement. My eyes pop out of my head; I spent $500 last night at the club! That’s way more than five drinks.
By Ash Robinson5 years ago in Humans
Let Me Speak
From age five until I was roughly ten years old I lost my voice completely. Literally, no sound. Something inside me told me not to because speaking words meant I would protest, and that would have meant dangerous, dark consequences adding to an already tenebrous existence. Not only were my foster family abusive, they were also deeply religious; the type believing in the wrath of god and Armageddon. Because we were all allegedly living in ‘the end of days’, education was only tolerated up to what was required by law, but no further. I’m not sure why, but perhaps I stopped speaking to escape the spartan brutality selectively meted out to me. School was a refuge, but general overwhelm rendered me unable to articulate words with my own sounds. Instead, I listened, I read, and I wrote things down. Despite the countless books I voraciously devoured, I’d become accustomed to my aphasia, so I reposed within the solace of words and stories whilst my voice, literally and figuratively, continued to elude me.
By Karen Garratt5 years ago in Humans
All of It
“Excuse me, are you Ariel?” A handsome man disturbed my daydreams - more like delusions really. I had been having a heart to heart with my sister on a park bench. The park surrounding us was like a fairytale with rich colours, rainbows, deep blue ponds and my incredible sister, Lenna. It seemed like heaven, way too good to be true. And it was. We had just buried my sister the week before.
By Tanna Rogers5 years ago in Humans
Fancy
“Yes mam. Ok. Yes, I will come mam. Ok thank you. Bye bye.” Lena looks at her phone, waits for the red end call button to extinguish, before shutting her smile off. She sighs softly. Too exhausted and defeated to sigh thoroughly. She takes the Tupperware containing two-day-old rice and fried fish that she was about to reheat before the phone rang and puts it back in the mini fridge. She turns to her wardrobe/ pantry and drops 2 granola bars in a reusable bag, three t-shirts (extra for messes), some plaid pajama bottoms. To it she adds her toothbrush, hair brush, and a noname face cream which is affordable enough for multipurpose use. She dumps out the pot of water that lives on the radiator in lieu of a humidifier and reaches for her for her still-damp, second hand, parka. A pseudo parka, purchased because she presumed anything this puffy had to be warm enough. She catches a glimpse in the mirror of her shockingly aged face. It isn’t just the lack of sun and traditional food that has altered her colour. It isn’t just the longing to see and touch her family that has drooped her expression. It’s the deepening, swallowing feeling that this life might not be temporary.
By Michelle Whitehead5 years ago in Humans
She Played for Free
Jovan gravely took the dollar from his mom’s fingers and put it in his own pocket. She wouldn’t have changed her mind and taken it back, but why risk it? He wasted no time—first, a brisk yet polite walk to the end of the aisle where his mom was browsing for picnic napkins. Then, once he passed the discount plastic tablecloths and turned the corner onto the supermarket’s large, central thoroughfare, he did that funny speed walk he did in school to get to recess, moving at jogging pace but able to argue that he was walking if anyone claimed otherwise.
By Laura Shaw5 years ago in Humans
