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.
“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
Everything Was About to Change
She barely caught the train. Not that another train wouldn’t be coming by in fifteen minutes, but the 1 train ran local and it was already going to be another forty-five minutes before the train got to her stop at 231st Street, the second to last stop on the 1 line. She was out of breath but she made it. Whew!
By Lisa R Barry5 years ago in Journal
When you least expect it
Chapter 1 Today, lunch with David was unsettling to say the least. We have been meeting for lunch regularly for as far back as I can remember - well, at least since the publication of 'The Forgotten Children' in 2008 anyway. He said, “Aldrich, I dreamt of Fairbridge Farm last night .. again. Something you said that didn’t make sense. And I can’t quite put my finger on it.” The statement was followed by a good minute of silence. It felt like Remembrance Day and the lumps that popped up in the throat were visceral.
By Eddy Furlong 5 years ago in Journal
The Last Bookstore
Celeste knew that bookstores were dying. The world was online, and the bookstore was a leftover, like week-old turkey. Celeste liked that no one came into the bookstore. She liked that there was a job that involved sitting around reading all day. It was a pretty good gig for someone who had barely graduated high school last year. Celeste once looked into being a librarian, but it involved a lot of student loan debt. Better to work for this little shop, for as long as it lasted.
By Laura Todd5 years ago in Journal
