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.

Little Bets and Her Little Black Book
She wore a secondhand school blazer, long boys’ trousers and had $20,000 stuffed inside her backpack. Her classmates wore pristine red blazers and the girls were in identical red and white check dresses. If this bothered her, she didn’t show it. Nor was she concerned there were two hundred $100 bills in the bag hanging on the back of her chair.
By Alex Markham5 years ago in Humans
The Caged Bird Dreams
All my life I've always heard the saying “money doesn't buy happiness”. Money can’t buy you love, good friends or bring back your pet parrot “Liberty” who flew directly into the ceiling fan while Ma was cleaning the cage one day. No, money sure can’t do that... I just know that not having money hasn't made anyone happy either. See I was 26 at the time, single, working a dead end job, like my Mama and her mama and her mama before that. They did whatever they had to do to survive. But for me surviving felt like dying. Like something was slowly pulling at me, screaming at me on the inside to get out! It was warning me if I stayed there I’d be just like my mama and her mama and her ma...well you get the idea. And maybe that's what Liberty felt. If she stayed in that cage for even a day longer, she’d never truly be happy. Or... I could be projecting my own feelings around money and freedom while grieving for a dead bird in the weirdest way possible. But, be that as it may. I needed a change, a life change.
By Adorno Luis5 years ago in Humans
The Elected Stranger
Upon the star-filled night time, was a girl and boy walking together along the shoreline. The night was young and love serenaded the night. While together, they talked about things they wanted to do together in the future. They were the stereotypical high school love birds. They had a fixed mindset on what they passionately believed in- having a family. Jackson was his name, he was the Quarterback for his high school. He was deeply in love with Halie. Halie was a varsity cheerleader. They had been friends since the sixth grade and their friendship soon ended and sprouted into a well respected and loyal relationship their freshman year. They are seniors now. Halie loved to go to all his games and support him in everything he did. Jackson loved her for all that she was doing for him. He never had someone like that in his life, his parents were divorced and did not pay much attention to him growing up. As he got older he was always on a search to find someone to love despite him not getting shown love in the past. He knew what he wanted. Because he grew up with traumatic events and disconnection in his life, it was hard for him to express his feelings to anyone. He was suffering things he did not mention to Halie or anyone. She felt sometimes, she was the one to blame when she was not able to get Jackson to communicate things she wanted to help him with.
By nesa reyes5 years ago in Humans
More Than Fiction
My stomach did an excited flip as my eyes landed on the book’s spine. Part Three. I’d waited an excruciating week for the library to order it in, part two playing over and over in my head and keeping my heart poised on the cusp of breaking. I had seen it in the bookshop. I don’t know why I kept torturing myself by returning to my old sanctuary, where the call of fresh, crisp books called to me from the shelves, begging me to take them home. Money had been a delicate issue for a while, and I knew that the library would fulfil my needs if I could be patient.
By Han Eliza5 years ago in Humans
The Switch
David’s black Moleskine was his most prized possession. It was a sleek, trim notebook with an elastic enclosure, ribbon bookmark, and thick ivory pages; but more important than the pages were the words and notes David had written upon them. The Moleskine was a descendent of legendary notebooks used by some of the greatest thinkers and artists of all time, and David knew that someday his prose would belong among the greats.
By Kimberly T5 years ago in Humans
Show Me The True Difference... If You Can
My tweed and leather Mary Janes took turns hitting the New York City pavement. The sound of daily hustle and bustle and fast living New Yorkers filled my ears.
By Dream Silas5 years ago in Humans
Fluorescent lighting and a dirty cement floor
I work as a file clerk in a the basement of a government building. There are millions of files containing pension information for anyone who has ever worked in the city. Every person has an electronic record but we are obligated to store paper copies as well. Why? No one knows. But they pay me to do it, and here I am, three weeks into a job that I needed desperately, threat of eviction looming via red text slipped under my apartment door.
By R Sirohi5 years ago in Humans
Doc Brock & The Black Book
My fists are tied, kid. The officer shut the door and marched back up the stairs. He sat there perplexed, wondering if he could have done anything to prevent this moment. He flashed back to the events from the previous night. Then, to the day that he first signed the lease. Something was not adding up!
By Justin McWilson5 years ago in Humans
If You Still Love Me
Prologue It was 2 AM and she wandered down the same internet hole that she always did. She started with a general search of his name, with or without his birth year. The usual results came up, a few mugshots and pay-for-information sites. She had given up on looking at more than the first page of results. They had long disconnected on social media but she still checked if his profile photo changed. His girlfriend was always next with the same search strategy.
By M Slater5 years ago in Humans
Through the Eyes of the Subjugated
As per usual I was there; in that godforsaken bar just like any other morning. Wasting away like most other Nocturnal Dipsomaniacs that frequented the place did. The clock read 3:14 A.M, but all I knew was the sun was nowhere in the sky and I’d only been awake for a couple of hours. My attention lied fixated on the ceiling fan that had one loose screw that made it vigorously shake above the other occupants; I’d like to think I was always watching out of fear, just in case. But maybe I was hoping; Hoping that one of these days it would just give, under all that strenuous motion.
By Robert wren 5 years ago in Humans
A Sketchy Tale
"I used to be an artist myself, you know." I raise my head to the sight of an old lady standing in front of me. She is smiling and holding loosely on the subway pole with one hand while grasping on the strap of her small shoulder bag with the other. I immediately close my notebook with my mechanical pencil between the pages, and stand up to offer her my seat.
By Cindy Shaw Yie5 years ago in Humans
Brielle and Little Black Book
Brielle and Little Black Book With no memory of her past, Brielle works at her little makeup salon downtown with a bodyguard she has no memory of ever hiring, but little does she know she is in for the ride of her life. The bodyguard's name is Michael. He is on strict orders to make sure that Brielle comes in contact with nobody from her past. However, Briella has no memory of ever hiring this bodyguard. She is reluctant and asks him to please leave and stop bothering her and her customers. The situation escalates to where Brielle threatens to call the cops if he does not go. Brielle does not know that the bodyguard can control mines and give people temporary memories.
By Lad bader5 years ago in Humans