fact or fiction
Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about cyber safety, artificial intelligence, dystopian futures and our everyday gadgets.
Little Black Book
When it came to Christopher, Webster tried his best to find adjectives within his treasure of words to describe this young man, however after becoming completely exhausted Webster the Dictionary threw his hands up and stated he's a man beyond my vocabulary. Christopher was 6’ 3 “with a medium build body structure that always captured the attention of people everywhere he went. Despite his athletic build, Christopher chose to go the route of Academia, in which he graduated with honors in undergraduate and graduate school and received the highest academic award to be given to a student which was the class valedictorian. Christopher was recruited by the Federal Government as a Foreign Service Officer. Christopher then quickly relocated to Washington, D.C. where he purchased a home in the prominent Georgetown area in Washington DC where the affluent and wealthy people resided. Everything was perfect in the home besides the eye-swore that was above the fireplace in which a hole existed because the previous owners installed a tv which damaged the mantel that was made out of precious stone from Morocco which was very rare. One day as Christopher was dumping the trash he spotted a painting in the trash can of a Seasoned Aged African -American lady holding a little book in her hand and she was looking up to the clear blue sky passing the black quilted clouds that blanketed the city. Christopher took the painting and placed it over the fireplace which covered the hole in the wall. Christopher received an email from his office with his next assignment being in Ghana Africa. While working in Ghana, he fell ill to malaria, a deadly disease that hundreds and thousands of people have died from in Ghana Africa and it's all because of a mosquito bite which carries the venomous bacteria. The malaria damaged the immune system of Chris to the point that he couldn't work and was debilitated in the hospital for 6 months. While Christopher was in the hospital he lost his job because he was no longer able to fulfill the functions of the job which require 90% travel to different countries. Then Chris' car got repossessed and his medical bills had extinguishing all of his Savings leaving him financially destitute. So for the next 10 years Christopher sat in the house dealing with his deteriorating health and major depression. One day while sitting in the living room and looking up at the painting on the wall, Christopher felt as though that maybe his life was starting to have an experience like that painting which was thrown in the trash. One day Chris received a visitor from one of his friends from college and this was so unlike Chris to let somebody come in but his friend was persistent.
By william kelly3 years ago in 01
Little black book
I received an email whose subject read “Congratulations! You won the grand prize.” I opened the email and read the content. It was about a story writing contest and I had just won the grand prize of $20,000. The email had all details on how to deposit the prize. there was a link that led to a secured website, with a one-way authentication form: whatever I put as banking information could not be used from the other end. This means it was legit. The problem was, I never wrote any contest. I did not know anything about writing but the occasional emails and text messages. How could I have written a story? I proceeded with filling the form.
By Nina Lapnet3 years ago in 01
Awaken
The life she knew was not her own. It was like the kiss that broke Sleeping Beauty’s curse, except Caitlyn wasn’t awakening in awe. She was living a nightmare. Her emotions ran the gamut since she found out. She was raw and had moved into a state of seething pain and rage.
By Liss Williams3 years ago in 01
Angel Earns Her Wigs
The early morning sun beamed directly on the single dime, causing it to shine brightly from it’s watery resting place in the pot-holed alleyway. Angel bent over and quickly plucked it up, dropping it in with the growing collection in her pocket. It had been a wet, cold night in the abandoned, burned out building she called home, and she was eager for a hot cup of coffee. As she walked toward the ZipNGo convenience store where the coffee was always on, she calculated how much more she’d need to buy the 16-ouncer. She wasn’t terribly concerned, though, because if she remembered correctly, Hal would be working the counter this morning. More often than not, he waved her on when she began pulling coins out of her pocket. She appreciated his generosity, and often stood around awhile to keep him company and shoot the breeze.
By Starla Klevenberg3 years ago in 01
Crime Pays
If she had to call someone, Elodie would not have been her first choice. But God, oh God, what else could she do? In the world of modern technology, she had no one’s phone number memorized. No one except Elodie. And there was an unconscious man lying at her feet and what appeared to be twenty thousand dollars in her hands—God oh God—so someone had to be called.
By Cassidy Keenan3 years ago in 01
What Happened to Andre?
“There are rose petals everywhere and I’m covered in baby oil.” I could hear the stifled laughing of the lady at the front desk as she held the phone away from her mouth. If this had happened to anyone else, I would have joined her. This was a bizarre situation.
By Jeffrey L. Cheatham II3 years ago in 01
TEN PERCENT
It was twenty past two on a Tuesday, but time seemingly stood still. I checked my phone again—no messages. I peeked out my window—no visitors. Something urgently needed to happen to make this office worth showing up to. I adjusted my tie—its unfamiliar tautness impelled me to rip it off, freeing my neck. Two weeks and counting in these new digs and not a single client. Perhaps a different advertisement strategy was in order. Or maybe I should never have signed the lease, keeping my operations firmly within the confines of my parents’ basement instead. I would have, too, if they hadn’t given me the ultimatum: no more stray pussycats. But what could I do? I had a soft spot for those solipsistic little creatures.
By Anya Migdal3 years ago in 01
Straps
She ran her finger along the frayed leather edge, wondering where it had come from. "What a strange thing for someone to have left and how did it get here?" she thought. The black notebook was in Cindi's office drawer, but she was certain she had not left it there before she left for vacation. Even more strange was that the drawer had been locked before she left. She distinctly remembered turning the key, of which Cindi had the only copy, and dropping her keyring in her purse, which had been with her the entire week.
By Leon Mateo3 years ago in 01