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.

Archibald Lindsey's Study of Women
Art Imitates Life: An introduction I remember as a child going to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina with Mom and Dad to see the ocean for the first time in my life. It was amazing. I’ll never forget topping that last hill and staring in awe at water that disappeared past the edge of the earth.
By The Bantering Welshman5 years ago in Humans
Noise
“No time. No time. I must run. I have to get away.” I kept telling myself that until I fell silent to the ground. “I can’t stop now,” I told myself. I was nearly in tears as I forced myself to my knees. The sand was hot from the day’s sun. A few rocks stuck to me as I got up. I brushed them off and winced from the pain. Looking around, I became less panicked, nothing. The sand, the weeds, the rocks, the sun in the sky, were all I saw. I stopped moving to listen. I held my breath out of the fear I would mistake it for another. Nothing is louder than the sound of air moving slowly in the nothingness of time. My anxiety grew. I had to keep moving. I let the breath out in an exasperated wheeze. I coughed and hacked till I saw stars. I think I could make out constellations; I was so lightheaded. Another stop I could not afford. I put my head between my legs until my breathing slowed, sound.
By Kitty Fermengs5 years ago in Humans
Dirty Little Secret Keeper
Every year my mother buys me a notebook of some sort for Christmas. When I was younger, they were accompanied by books about my changing body. As I got older, they were just given alone.
By Ella James5 years ago in Humans
My Husband is Gone
My husband has been gone for just over a day now. I know we were fighting a lot and he had been acting different, but I still don’t want him gone. I love him with all I have. Even if we had problems. Even if he was having an affair. The days leading up to his absence were normal for the most part. In fact, they were the best days we had in a long while. We spent time together without bickering over some stupid thing and it felt like it used to. I really thought we were on the mend.
By Gina Ruiz5 years ago in Humans
Hippie Chick
Maybe it was the Jameson. Maybe it was the mischievous spark in her eye. Maybe the combination of the two was just enough to impair my decision-making faculties that night. Either way I couldn’t stop wondering what she was scratching in that little black notebook with the stub of a pencil that had been chewed beyond recognition on one end. It was definitely the Jameson that gave me the courage to ask her about it. Hippie chicks weren’t normally my thing, but she was something else. I sauntered over with my wing man in tow, true military style. I hadn’t been back from my last deployment for long and it was good to be back stateside, where I was fairly confident she’d at least speak english.
By Liv Stecker5 years ago in Humans
My Queen
I sat with my body sprawled out with my head resting on my hand as I glared down. A certain male that stood behind this darn throne would not seize their scowling look.
By Ezra Scarlet 5 years ago in Humans
A Magical Gift
It was Friday May 17th 1974. It was my 10th birthday. No longer a kid. I'm a double digit now. Tonight is my party and I am so excited. My aunt Mary is going to be here too. She lives in Tennessee and we live in California. I have only met her once before when we went to visit my mama’s family last year. Aunt Mary and I got along real well. She is my mama’s youngest sibling. She is only 19 years old. When I was there she liked playing with my hair. I have very long hair. She would do fancy breads and buns in my hair. We also played dress up. I would put on one of grandma's dresses and hills. I loved my aunt Mary very much. When Mama said that aunt Mary was going to be staying with us for a time I jumped up and down and danced around. No telling how long “a time” is, but I’m excited that she is staying with us.
By Connie Sahlin5 years ago in Humans
The Woman in Sunglasses
The Woman in Sunglasses, by Amy Hallett She was going to be late. There was no way around it. This had been her one shot and now she was going to be late. To make matters worse, her phone only had a tiny bit of charge left. She needed to be sure she wasn't going to make the presentation before she called. She just hoped she had enough charge to do so. Why hadn't she bought a new charger last night like she was supposed to? Why is she always so forgetful? At least she had remembered her small leather notebook, it held all her notes for her big presentation.
By Amy White5 years ago in Humans
Borrowed
Mathew sat and waited for the bus that would take him to work. It was a beautiful day, the sun was out, the early morning dew made the air smell like spring and the wind was calm but steady. As he sat; he read his favorite column, in his favorite newspaper, on his favorite bench, at the same time he always did. Mathew always did enjoy his routines. The column was written by a man he knew in grade school and it always made him feel accomplished, as though he somehow had something to do with his success. Though the truth is he played no significant role. Mathew was in fact a very insignificant person and had been his whole life. Not very popular, not very handsome or interesting and had very little ambition. He worked in a mailroom and made just enough to get by. In fact the only thing unique about Mathew was that he had a very good memory, especially when it came to numbers.
By Ty Elder5 years ago in Humans
In Lavender
He could still smell her perfume. It was unforgettable. Wherever she went, plumes of lavender hung in the air like ethereal blankets hung out to dry. As he crossed the room, it clung to his face, invaded his nostrils and pummelled the senses behind his eyes.
By Suzsi Mandeville5 years ago in Humans
Borrowed
Mathew sat and waited for the bus that would take him to work. It was a beautiful day, the sun was out, the early morning dew made the air smell like spring and the wind was calm but steady. As he sat; he read his favorite column, in his favorite newspaper, on his favorite bench, at the same time he always did. Mathew always did enjoy his routines. The column was written by a man he knew in grade school and it always made him feel accomplished, as though he somehow had something to do with his success. Though the truth is he played no significant role. Mathew was in fact a very insignificant person and had been his whole life. Not very popular, not very handsome or interesting and had very little ambition. He worked in a mailroom and made just enough to get by. In fact the only thing unique about Mathew was that he had a very good memory, especially when it came to numbers.
By Ty Elder5 years ago in Humans
The Train Whistle
The Train Whistle The Dodge Dart sputters and slows, warning me it’s time to pull over. There is no shoulder on this isolated mountain pass, so I maneuver onto the grass and around a few scraggly trees, paying careful attention not to drive off into a deep ravine. The car rolls to a stop just as the needle on the gas gage drops past the E. I shift into park and turn off the headlights before I take a deep breath and relax against the back of the seat. I’ve done it. I have successfully executed part one of my escape. Part two happens the moment I leave the safety of the car and venture into the dark forest lining the side of this dirt road.
By Denise Parton5 years ago in Humans