fact or fiction
Is it a fact or is it merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the lesser known truths in the corporate culture of Journal.
Curbside Collection
Curbside Collection Henry took in the interior of the kitchen. The melamine slathered cabinet faces regarded him dumbly. Their circa-1950, painted-over brass handles resembled ivory bones glued to reminders of his childhood, the upper cupboards once far beyond his reach.
By TAB The Writer5 years ago in Journal
The Mysterious Man and His Little Black Book
Brian Roam walks into “The Coffee Shop” and orders his usual; medium coffee black with two sugars, and a cheese danish. He then sits down in the back corner of the shop at his usual table. Brian then cracks open his laptop and sits there for hours, occasionally getting up to stretch his legs, and to order another coffee. This has been Brian’s daily routine for the past three months. Brian is an aspiring writer, and it was painstakingly obvious that he has been overcome with a severe case of writer's block.
By Malcolm Farrar5 years ago in Journal
Take A Chance
Today started out like any other day for me. The sounds of an awakening, urban jungle growing louder as daylight crept over the horizon. It was never the rumbling trains, arguing neighbors, honking horns or alarm clock that woke me up each day. The anxiety of facing the day with next to nothing was more than enough to jolt me awake each morning. Like normal, I sat up in my bed, stared at the drywall underneath the peeling, gray paint on my bedroom wall before preparing to go to work. I must say, despite how normal my daily routine felt at that point, I could feel that there was something different about today. Like something out of the ordinary was around the corner. Not knowing what to make of that feeling, I got myself cleaned up and dashed out of the door for work.
By Brian Simpson5 years ago in Journal
The Man At Table 12
It was just like any other shift. I still woke up 20 minutes before I had to leave for work, scrambling to get ready. I still woke up slightly hungover. I still arrived 5 minutes late when I only live 7 minutes away. Something about this shift was different and I could feel it as soon as I walked in the door and clocked in.
By Alyssa Flores5 years ago in Journal
Spend It Wisely
My alarm clock basically slapped me in the face this morning, making sure I got out of bed. It might as well have thrown cold water over me. It was that painful. I could hear it nagging at me, "Come On! GET UP! You don't want to lose your job, do you?!" No, but that doesn't mean I wanted to go either.
By Michael Devlin5 years ago in Journal
The Eye
It was a rainy summer evening in New York City, the type that made you feel as though anything could happen. The sound of the cool water hitting the tired, hot pavement, and filling the air with a sort of fog that made everything familiar to you appear in a distorted view almost called for something different or chaotic to happen. It was Penny Lipton’s favorite kind of night. Yes, her name was Penny Lipton and she hated it —it sounded like a brand of boxed tea or the name of a girl down the street who always wore her hair in pigtails. In actuality, Penny did not come remotely close to either of these things. She was short and scraggly and her hair never really did what she wanted it to. Her clothes were always dark and the only bright thing about her was the random streak of color in her hair — it was her own act of rebellion against its constant need to fight being tame. Currently it was purple, and would change at any given moment for no particular reason or purpose.
By Kathryn Kornacki5 years ago in Journal
“I’m going to need a bigger bag”
Here I am at the bank, again, cashing in my winnings. I dressed as inconspicuously as possible. Although, I feel like everyone is looking at me right now. Maybe is it because of my sunglasses while it’s well lit inside and pouring rain outside, I don’t know. I guess it’s near-miss/10 for this look then. Anyway, while the cashier brings over my $20,000 in cash as I requested for the first time, I prepare some space in my purse and I see my little black book. To the untrained eye, it looks like a regular notebook but let me tell you, it’s far more precious. This is how I managed to “make a living” shall we say. I don’t want to call it magic but let’s say it’s a gift from the future. I got it by complete chance. In a way, it was my luckiest day on god’s green earth. It’s the most fascinating story. Hear me out.
By Antoine Clerc-Renaud5 years ago in Journal
The Billionaire
In this brief ‘story’, I will attempt to describe the journey that has led me to participate in this competition. I will also describe just how significant my little black book has been for me, along with a few other books and mentors I have been so fortunate to encounter. At this point in my life, I was at an all time low after having had my wrestling career end abruptly and unexpectedly due to an injury and dropping out of college. After working several jobs that definitely weren’t career worthy, and unintentionally losing the only two I really liked, and wanting to continue wrestling somehow, I made up my mind that my last option was to pursue a career in MMA.
By Trevon Lawson5 years ago in Journal
New Beginnings
Morning sunlight reaches through sheer white curtains. A soft, sleepy groan comes from the pile of pillows and blankets on the bed by the window. With a dramatic heave, Renée pulls herself out of the depth of her dreams. She stumbles half asleep into the bathroom and into the shower. Her daughter, Zoey, sleeps sweetly, nestled in the innocence that only surrounds toddlers.
By Rain Kendall5 years ago in Journal
An Author's Legacy
Marcie pulled into the long-paved driveway of 1832 Westcastle Court and forced her Volkswagen into Park with a clunk. As she kicked the driver's door open with her foot, she dragged a loaded cardboard box across the center console and wrestled it out of the car with her. Blowing the black hairs out of her eyes, she set the box to rest on the hood of the car and began fishing through its contents.
By Michelle Pattison5 years ago in Journal
