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.

As It unfolded
For years, she had desperately strived to regain the manifestation skills she had done so well with as a child. She cleared her mind, she focused, she directed positive vibrations; her subconscious celebrated her victory.
By Sandra Stallone5 years ago in Humans
Children's Toys
The restaurant was large, but every dining area took up so much space that it made the place feel small. The seats were plump and soft and circled around to make crescent moons.
By Kine Diallo5 years ago in Humans
Little Black Book $20,000 and A Woman
Little Black Book $20,000 And A woman Long ago in the midst of time....in Grover, North Carolina. This was a place where families thrived, achieved, and looked out for one another but, there was one particular woman who looked out for everyone around, did not have a bad bone in her. Ms. Betsy, this sweet woman was the apple of everyone’s eye, and she is my inspiration for this story. Allow me to introduce this wonderful woman, Ms. Betsy, 97 was born and raised in Grover, North Carolina, she lived with her parents and it was here where she was taught how to take care of livestock, and anything else that could move. She was not a lazy person; this woman was a “get it done person” and believed in doing what needed to be done for herself as well as her family. A very loving woman I may say, she saw good in every person that interacted with her no matter what the person was going through.
By Lillie Johnson5 years ago in Humans
Christie's Light
"Hello, I have a little black notebook. I'd like to say it's curiously spectacular. The unscratched smooth surface welcomes my touch every time I open it. Inside I use the clean-lined pages I have left to describe all of what I can see. Whether it be directly in front of me, a memory, or something I made up, my little black notebook can safely hold anything I put in it. In a world all its own. So I can relive everything or anything I want when I want. It's quite profound and vivid most times, and I don't trust I could live without it.
By Celeste5 years ago in Humans
Priceless
Priceless “Not much here,” I said dejectedly. “No,” agreed Professor Lee, “not much anywhere.” She sighed audibly leaning on her shovel for support before she walked away without further comment, her head down and shoulders sagging.
By Mary Wolf5 years ago in Humans
Desiree and the Little Black Book
Desiree and the Little Black Book Desiree for the life of her had no idea why she had been followed. Or why her back account suddenly had $20,000 deposited in it. Or how a little black book mysteriously ended up in the large leather messenger bag she used for work.
By Kathie McMullen5 years ago in Humans
Overdue Settlement
Lucy had become obsessive about writing everything down in her little black book, she knew that continuously re-reading her thoughts and feelings from her past really would change nothing, but she just could not stop herself.
By Trevor B Hodsdon5 years ago in Humans
Disrupted Routine
Jason gazed across the pond from his favorite bench in the park. It was an antique and shaped to the curve of his back (unlike the newer benches in the park that were rudimentary L shapes. He stretched his arms upward, toward the tree above him, then stood up slowly. He tossed the leftover scraps of his sandwich to the 4 ducks that were circling in front of him (2 white, one brown, and one gray). "Same time tomorrow, buddies?" They continued fighting over the floating pieces of bread without acknowledging Jason. He smiled at the thought of them looking like "Hungry Hippos" swallowing white marbles. Necks lengthened and greedy mouths opened and closed until there was nothing left to eat.
By Val Felty5 years ago in Humans
The Book of Life
“This is a Jane Doe?” the man behind the desk covered in documents asked the woman behind the girl dressed in animal skins. The woman who was a social worker nodded.
By M. M. Sang 5 years ago in Humans
Bad Girl House
A choir rehearsal never went by without a guy named Dan shamelessly attempting to get the attention of every girl in the room. He acted just the little boys on the play ground pulling the pigtails of the girls he liked before running away. I suppose that he had never outgrown that childish manner of flirting. I wouldn’t have described what he was doing as charming, but he deserved an A for effort. Most of the other girls avoided him, or at least ignored him the best that they could. Some of them already knew what he was like, because he was also in the marching band with them. The band had started practicing over the summer because of the football season, so they had a slight advantage on the singers that hadn’t met him yet. I was one of the girls that he hadn’t seen, so he must have seen it as an opportunity to see how I would react. He would often tap me on the shoulder, and wave at me with a goofy grin on his face when I turned around. On a day that he was being particularly annoying, he wouldn’t stop tapping me on the shoulder during a rehearsal. We were standing on risers, practicing for an upcoming concert, so there already wasn’t a lot of personal space to speak of. Dan had been placed behind me. Every time the director stopped the choir, I felt his finger tapping at me. The first few times I turned around to see him looking around at the ceiling. I just smiled. After a few more taps, I had to start ignoring him. I was taking our rehearsal seriously, and I had had enough. His tapping got a little bit harder, but I still didn’t turn around. He must have gotten the message, because he gave up for the day.
By Kathy Sees5 years ago in Humans
The Wishing Book
It started when I cleaned out a box of donations to the thrift store. The owner had decided most things in the box were too old or ratty to sell, and I was picking through to see if there was anything worth repurposing. That was when I found the little black book, wrapped up in a pink knit sweater full of holes. It was worn, pages yellowed… probably an old journal of some kind, added by mistake. I flipped it open, curious about the story it had to tell – but the inside was blank. Completely blank, except for three words written in sprawling cursive at the top: The Wishing Book.
By Miranda McNeff5 years ago in Humans
Mile-A-Minute
It was a morning so average it would give you nightmares. There was nothing notable about the weather, no major events that had taken place the night before. I wish I could say it was a normal nothing, like four ice cubes in your drink instead of five, or a missing pickle on your burger, but it wasn’t. She looked serious, grave almost, but she was studying, it was normal. However, me being the worrywart I always am, I asked if everything was okay.
By Ismael Ferro5 years ago in Humans