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.
Money Money Money
Monday's are always the rough days, Joe thought to himself, as he got ready to clean out his bus for the day. Sure enough, as Joe swept out his bus he found pieces of food on the floor and wrappers from pre-made foods on the floor even though the sign clearly states NO FOOD on the bus. Joe had an eye for detail when it comes to cleaning his bus. He made a small pile of debris in the middle of the bus. Before he got ready to sweep the trash up, he looked down and saw a little black book, he bent down and dug it out of the rest of the trash in the pile. Now he was curious and opened the book, The book looked old and worn, on the inside of the cover it said, FOLLOW ME TO RICHES. The rest of the pages were in a language Joe didn't understand, he closed the book and continued to clean out his bus. When he was finished he headed to the shop to clock out for the day. He turned in his cleaning supplies signed his worksheet handed the dispatcher his phone and clipboard and turned in his money, and proceeded to make his way home.
By AngelicMarie Gingras5 years ago in Humans
Keep it Safe
“Brrrrr!” Lexi said to her husband as they were exiting the movie theatre. It was about 1 am when they were leaving the theatre. Brax, graciously puts his arms around his wife while walking to the back of the parking lot to their car. They were the only two in sight, or what they had thought. As Brax opens the door for Lexi, an old man grabs Brax by the collar and whispers. “Keep it safe!” Brax was startled by the old man, and before he could do or say anything the old man took his last breath and fell to the ground. “Oh my god! Did he just die?” Screamed Lexi. Brax had no words, taken back and only to be holding a little black book and the old man lying dead at his feet.
By Alissa Knox5 years ago in Humans
The Interview
Erica sat quietly at the large L-shaped desk. She had been waiting twenty minutes for this interview with Mr. Bradley Brighton and was starting to feel a little impatient. “Am I even qualified for this job” she wondered to herself. “Is he late because my time isn’t valuable to him or his business?” In true Erica fashion her mind spiraled, her palms got sweaty and she hoped that this anxiety she felt would not show through when Mr. Brighton finally showed up.
By Dorothy Back5 years ago in Humans
Winners
Monday The air at the station blows like a convection oven, passing over and under her dress. No amount of hair wax will tame the errant, bean sprout curls along her neck and forehead. Beads of nervous perspiration dot her body in anticipation of the forthcoming interview questions. Rachel Herrera wants, no, needs this job.
By Francesca Flood, Ed.D.5 years ago in Humans
Three Rivers and a Blessing
It was Cecilia’s third visit to the small white church with the red and black motorcycle on the roof above the entryway. EVERYONE WELCOME the sign read, and right above that, THREE RIVERS BIKER CHURCH. Cecilia had decided to wear khaki dress pants and a simple wool sweater vest that was the hue of a bursting raincloud combined with a long-sleeve white button up blouse underneath. Last Sunday when she attended the church, she had realized that no one here dressed elegantly. Even more so, she had noticed that most everyone, including the women, wore jeans. And there was not a drop of makeup or piece of jewelry in the place. Cecilia judged by the glances of the others that her bright blue satin dress and diamond earrings were a bit much, and she had vowed to blend in more this Sunday. Not just because she was new to town seeking a home church and every other church was forty-five minutes away, but also because she thought maybe that was the reason behind the nearly seven-foot-tall three-hundred-pound biker, Kiran, intently watching her the last two Sundays.
By Brandi Ashley 5 years ago in Humans
The Bus Ride
The dyslexic homeless threw his ticket away after assuming he was holding a loser. "So close," he mumbled. I did not mean to peek at his numbers on the bus but his broken socks caught my attention. I almost wanted to take mine off my feet and give them to him. But then he may have thought me to be the weird one. I watched him fold it up and tuck his 'garbage ticket' between the two seats where he was sitting. Eventually he got off the bus, I slipped the ticket into my bag and opened it up when I got out. As I was unfolding the ticket, an ocean of thoughts crossed my mind simultaneously: Maybe I was the one who read the numbers wrong. If I did have a winning ticket what debt would I pay first? Would I tell my family? Would I even go and try to find the homeless man it belonged to? I should at least buy him socks. I mean, does it really even belong to him if he read the numbers wrong and threw his ticket away? The Libra in me started to reveal itself in my thoughts. Endless indecisiveness. Upon opening it up- it was indeed... a winning ticket. The man had a $20,000 prize. Unfortunately for him, the ticket was now mine.
By Kasey Walker5 years ago in Humans
And Then, It Happened
How could this be happening!? I just can't believe this. My world was just spinning out of control. I couldn't believe it. Here I stand at 17 being told that the only parent I have ever known is gone! The officer at the door was talking and I know I should be listening, but everything was all garbled up. He had a kind face that looked so sad. He was an older man with lots of wrinkles around his eyes and little creases around his lips giving away the years that he had spent smoking. I knew he was trying to say whatever he was saying as kindly and gently as possible, but I couldn't even hear him. My brain was racing, where will I go, who will take care of me, can I do this alone. I was going to be 18 in like three weeks!! Before the officer could even finish I remember just saying thank you and closing the door. He stood there for a bit, on the other side of our glass front door staring at me. He was probably wondering the same thing I was, am I going to be okay. I stepped away from the door and everything went dark.
By Aleah Peplinski5 years ago in Humans
Making Amends
Fozzie Bear?? Really? Damn Facebook game thing decides what Sesame Street Muppet you're most like, and I get that flippin' guy. Even after the second time. Consumed by my wish to be seen as Kermit, I hopped on my bike, hoping for the appropriate soundtrack. Again, no. But I had to be at my non-Fozzie spot on time, so I was able to bear the disappointment and head off to the coffee shop.
By Laura Chastain5 years ago in Humans
