fact or fiction

Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about our family dynamics, traditions, and if there's such thing as a 'perfect family.'

Domo Arigatou Bitcoin Boy
Charene was stuck in traffic and getting more irate by the minute. She'd had the usual over the top busy day at work and all she wanted to do was get home to her apartment, cook dinner and collapse on the couch with a glass of wine. She didn't know if her teenage son Ethan would be home - lately he stayed out more often than in and even though he was only 14 there was little she could do about it. Ethan's father was not on the scene, after leaving Charene earlier that year for "the Skinny Bitch" as Charene called her. And to make matters worth her beloved brother Eric had recently died of pancreatic cancer, which was a blow she was still reeling from. When Richard left her after 24 years it was a shock, but when Eric died it was a visceral blow that still at times left her gasping for breath with the pain of knowing she'd never see him again.
By Helen Smith5 years ago in Families
Counting the Days
"The Grim Reaper's here." Penny said under her breath as Jessica came back out onto the floor. Jessica glanced up to see the young woman sitting in her section.
By L. M. Williams5 years ago in Families
Little Black Book
Shakti stared at her book and wept tears of joy knowing that she would never forsake her - she couldn't. She'd never before allowed herself space to grieve for all she had lost, her thin, calloused fingers cramping as she torqued them against the threadbare stained cover. Inside, her memories, her beloved letters from Jahad on tissue-thin paper, the yellow flower pressed by Mama when she was five, tucked inside as bookmark, were all she had left from another land and time. She knew the well-worn journal would protect her treasures, they had seen her through the worst part of the last trip possible here. The bittersweet anguish could not hurt her precious diary, nor the spider-webbed pleas she had etched inside day and night. This little black book was holy writ - and hers alone to carry forward.
By Julian Grant5 years ago in Families
GOOD, GRIEF.
QUEENSLAND Mr G had left that morning, to go and sit at our lookout at the beach. THE call woke me; I fumbled the sheets next to me looking for Mr G; the other half of me, Realising he was missing, I searched for my glasses to focus my vision and then my eyes to focus on the screen; Thinking it was him calling. It wasn't.
By Mr&MrsG5 years ago in Families
The Haunting of New Jersey
"Do you know you live in one of the most haunted houses in the country?" a woman informed me. To be honest I was a little surprised and didn't have a response right away. Instead, I nodded my head awkwardly as I dug into my candy bucket to plop a few pieces into her child's trick or treat bag.
By S. L. Harpel5 years ago in Families
Snake River
Henry Anderson awoke one Saturday morning to the sound of roosters crowing, the same as he did almost every other day on his family’s farm in Ashton, Idaho. The sun was just coming up and Henry knew that if he didn’t get moving his mother would be in shortly to have another one of her famous “talks”, about the importance of starting the day with gratitude and positivity. Henry didn’t mind the hard work that living on a farm demands, but he would much rather be out exploring in the woods or trout fishing on Snake River as most other teenagers were doing during their summer vacation.
By Adam Prill5 years ago in Families
Unlovely
When Diana Ripley arrived at her father’s table, the U.S.-Swiss Ambassador was on his phone talking loudly about one of his recent successes. He glanced up at Diana only long enough to tap his wrist watch and remind her she was late.
By Ed Silva5 years ago in Families
The Chest from Milan
The um... ...the news about Nonno’s passing didn’t make... as big of a commotion in the family as I thought it would... and... I know that the last year hasn’t been easy for any of us right now, so I'm sorry ahead of time... but I expected more from us.
By Luigi Alvarez5 years ago in Families
Blood Money
I sit in my new suit, with the book open in my lap. ‘Lindsay’ is what the looping letters from the inside cover read.
By Rebecca Bradley5 years ago in Families
The Secret
Samiya Ruiz sat on the steps of her run down row home, a cigarette in hand contemplating on what her next move would be. She was anxious, stressed out was an understatement. Looking towards the cloudy sky that was above her asking the universe to make a way. Noise was all around her. People walking up and down her block buying drugs from the drug dealers on the corner. Cars with loud music zooming down the street. She could barely get her thoughts together. But the distractions were nothing compared to the financial hardships she was facing. She was out of work, couldn’t find a job due to the Covid 19 pandemic and living off of her disabled son’s social security check. The rent was due soon, the utility bills were piling up, and she stressed that she wouldn’t have enough. Something was going to get cut off.
By Samantha Rodriguez5 years ago in Families
Anything but, "The Notebook"
Anything But, “The Notebook.” By, Not a Fatalist It was 1946. The sun was shining and my toe felt the radiance. The passage of time was long since my feet had seen a Summer. My eyes looked dreary. But inside, I knew there was a tiny glow. Like when a campfire goes out. Everyone else is asleep and doesn’t notice. You do though, you wait and watch, and take little wagers on which ember will endure the last flame before transforming into smoke. Perhaps, I am the only one that wants to know? But this ember, it would never turn to ash. It was getting brighter. As I looked up, I thought perhaps my pupils are very tiny, and there was nothing but blue. As soon as I noticed, a cloud appeared. “You would, G-d.” And I laughed. I wouldn’t say it was a deep breath. It felt like the front of my mid-section was vertical strings and a new kind of soft thick air, product unknown, was holding them upright. But still, it was a breath. I was alive. I am still, alive.
By Ariel Baker5 years ago in Families
The Bucket List
The small notebook wasn’t much to look at. Leather-bound, black, small enough to slide in my pocket...and old. The leather was dried and cracked, the pages inside yellowed. If it weren’t for the words written inside, I would have tossed in in the trash along with the rest of the junk I was cleaning out of my grandparent’s attic.
By Jennifer Renae Allen5 years ago in Families