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.
Penobscot 89.1 WXJT
Helen placed the headphones over her ears, adjusted the microphone, and opened her small black notebook to review her morning radio show plan. The notebook’s worn cover and crinkled pages told the story of her 73rd year – her radio show outlines, to-do lists, reminders, important dates, and doctors’ appointments.
By A. M. Watson5 years ago in Humans
The Little Gold Watch
I stumbled upon a little black notebook in the attic while I was rummaging through my great-grandma’s belongings, in the summer of 2020. The little black book had little significance to me, but I’m sure it was at least as old as my grandma had been when she died at the ripe age of 99.
By Heely Golian5 years ago in Humans
The Gold Watch
I stumbled upon a little black notebook in the attic while I was rummaging through my great-grandma’s belongings, in the summer of 2020. The little black book had little significance to me, but I’m sure it was at least as old as my grandma had been when she died at the ripe age of 99.
By Heely Golian5 years ago in Humans
The Suitcase
This tale will begin as such: This day began just like any other. This day was thought to be normal or average at best. It was thought to perhaps be ordinary. However, we know that nowadays are quite odd. Nowadays are seemingly the same, day in and day out. Lengthened by the same old same of mundane pleasantries and tasks. Yet, these days are undoubtedly a kind of bizarre made normal. The “New Normal” as it has been coined.
By Erin Warfield5 years ago in Humans
Secrets in the Fall
I remember the first snowfall, how I stuck my tongue out to catch the cold. The cold... I will never forget the coldness of your hands. It was just an accident with no deeper meaning. I hated myself for thinking, what a dumb way to die. My cousin, who had blue hair since before I could talk and pierced his lips before punk rock made it cool. You rode your skateboard everywhere, smoked weed and drank Forty’s. God, I wish I could have talked to your longer. We had all thought the lung cancer would have killed you first, but cigarettes do not seem so bad anymore especially when you smoked them since you were twelve and would have probably still be smoking them today. Because the cigarettes did not kill you, neither did the alcohol nor weed. None of your bad habits did you in like we used to say, no your death was simple, too simple for someone as rad as you were.
By Narissa Narotam5 years ago in Humans
Time Well Spent
There has to be a metaphor here. I will admit that I have found myself in some rather unpleasant homes before – I have slept on couches of drug addicts and accompanied the abused on the run from their abuser – but this has got to be the most unpleasant. I can feel the street sludge from last week’s winter snowfall soaking into my backside as I lay crumpled on the cement. I have found that as soon as you make your home where the sidewalk meets the storefront, you become cellophane to the strangers who pass you. Not having a permanent residence has never bothered me much, I have never stayed in one place for very long. It is the invisibility that haunts me. I have value, you know. No one likes to be ignored. When I was young, I bounced from home to home. I was never any trouble, and most held onto me for as long as they could, but my home will always be ever changing. I am old and worn now, and still I drift through society. I have been called many names, but I prefer George. It fits the image of the man people see me as. A woman on her cellphone passes me without a second glance.
By Callisto Stars5 years ago in Humans
The Appointment
Jacob Prosser was not a bad guy. He was just misunderstood. When his estranged wife, Marilyn, announced that she was taking the kids and moving back to Ohio to live with her parents, Jake realized she misunderstood him most of all. She said she could not live with his addictions any longer. Addictions? What addictions? He was not addicted to gambling, he was dedicated to it, like any other professional is to their craft. And like any other professional he knew that perfection took time and patience.
By Ray Sakultarawattn5 years ago in Humans
No Foot Too Big
It all started the day I got my birthday card. My sister, as is her custom, sent me a fun commemoration with a Lottery Scratcher enclosed. Her birthday message. You never know. I must admit I was amused as I set my gaze on the colorful and busy scratch game ticket. With a laugh and a shrug of my shoulders I proceeded to scratch away.
By Carol Dent5 years ago in Humans
