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.
Arturo Gatti Jr.: A Life Too Short, A Legacy Rekindled in Tragedy
The name Arturo Gatti resonates with a raw, almost mythological power in the annals of boxing. Arturo "Thunder" Gatti, the relentless warrior whose epic battles captivated millions, left an indelible mark on the sport before his own tragic and controversial death in 2009. Now, with profound sadness, the Gatti family name once again finds itself at the center of a heartbreaking narrative, as news emerged of the untimely passing of his son, Arturo Gatti Jr., at the tender age of 17.
By Shazzed Hossain Shajalabout a year ago in Humans
When the Moon Went Missing
No one noticed it at first. The evening sky arrived as usual, painted in indigo, the stars waking one by one. But when people looked for the moon, it wasn’t there. Not behind the clouds. Not beneath the horizon. It was simply… gone. Astronomers called it an “unexplained optical anomaly.” Children called it “the night the sky forgot its smile.” But for me, it was the night my mother stopped singing. She used to hum to the moon every evening from our old balcony, her voice floating into the night like a prayer. “She listens,” my mother would whisper, smiling up at that silver light. “The moon always listens.” When it disappeared, her songs did too. The Town Without Light In our small coastal town, tides grew strange without the moon’s pull. Fishermen said the sea lost its rhythm, rising when it shouldn’t, sleeping when it should have danced. Gardens withered, birds flew in circles, and nights grew heavier. People began lighting candles on rooftops — small offerings to the missing moon. Some prayed, others cursed. A few even claimed they could hear her crying in the waves. I didn’t believe in that kind of magic — not until the night I found the note. The Note in the Telescope My mother’s old telescope sat by the window, covered in dust. She hadn’t touched it since the moon vanished. But one evening, as I cleaned the lens, I found a folded piece of paper tucked inside. It said: “When the moon goes missing, look for the girl who never sleeps.” At first, I thought it was just one of my mother’s poetic phrases. But when I asked her, she turned pale. “I wrote that… years ago,” she whispered. “Before you were born.” The Girl Who Never Sleeps That night, I couldn’t rest. Around midnight, I walked to the cliffs overlooking the ocean — the place where my mother used to sing. The waves shimmered faintly under the starlight. And then I saw her. A figure standing barefoot at the edge of the cliff, wearing a white dress that shimmered like frost. Her hair flowed as though underwater, and her eyes reflected the stars. “You came,” she said, as if she’d been waiting. “Who are you?” I asked, my voice trembling. She smiled sadly. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” “Try me.” She looked toward the sea. “I’m the reason the tides listen. The reason dreams glow. I’m the one you call the moon.” I wanted to laugh — but something in her eyes silenced me. They weren’t human eyes. They carried the calm of centuries, and sorrow older than time. Why the Moon Left She told me she had grown tired of watching. “Humans stopped looking up,” she said softly. “They built lights brighter than mine, chased stars made of metal, and forgot to listen to the night. So I left. I wanted to see if anyone would notice.” I swallowed hard. “We did notice,” I said. “The world isn’t the same.” Her expression softened. “Not the world,” she said. “You.” It was then I understood — she wasn’t talking about humanity. She was talking about my mother. The Song that Called Her Back The moon turned to face the dark horizon. “Once, your mother sang to me,” she said. “Every night. Her voice kept me company through centuries of silence. But she stopped — and so I did too.” Tears stung my eyes. “She stopped because you disappeared.” “Then sing for her,” the moon whispered. “So she remembers how.” The Night of the Song I ran home. My mother was sitting by the window, staring into the dark. I told her everything — the cliffs, the girl, the words. She smiled weakly. “You always had your father’s imagination.” But I took her hand and led her outside anyway. The sea shimmered faintly in the distance, and the stars seemed to lean closer. Then, for the first time in years, she began to hum. It was the same melody she used to sing when I was small — soft, slow, full of longing. I joined her, my voice shaking. The sound floated across the cliffs, blending with the wind. And then it happened. A faint glow appeared on the horizon. Gentle, silver, growing brighter with every note. The sea sighed. The air shifted. The missing light returned — rising, whole and beautiful, as if it had never left. The moon was home again. After the Return People cheered. Scientists scrambled to explain the impossible. But I didn’t need proof. I knew what I’d seen — and what we had brought back with a song. My mother sang every night after that. The town’s tides found their rhythm again. And though she never spoke of that night, she always smiled when the moonlight touched her face. Sometimes, when I look up at the sky, I see the moon blink — just once — as if she’s remembering the song. And I like to think she still listens.
By LUNA EDITHabout a year ago in Humans
The Stranger Who Knew My Name Before I Spoke
It was an ordinary Tuesday morning — the kind where the world moves half-awake, faces buried in phones, coffee cups in shaking hands. I boarded the 8:12 train like always, found my seat by the window, and prepared for another silent ride to work.
By Malaika Pioletabout a year ago in Humans
Gaza Teenagers Become Influencers Creating Online Diaries To Survive
While teenage influencers from around the world post videos and reels of themselves opening gifts, girls in Gaza reveal a different reality. By revealing their actions, “The diary gives them significance and self-worth, and, to a certain degree, the ability to cope with their emotions.”
By Anne Sewellabout a year ago in Humans
Domingo in Spain. AI-Generated.
In the bustling heart of Madrid, where the sun dipped low over the rooftops like a reluctant lover, lived Domingo Alvarez. He was a man of words, not the spoken kind that danced in cafes or echoed in plazas, but the written ones that flowed from his fingertips onto screens. For years, Domingo had been ensnared by the Vocal website—a digital haven for storytellers, poets, and dreamers. It was more than a platform; it was his lifeline, his stage, his addiction. Every morning, he'd wake to the glow of his laptop, scrolling through notifications, reading comments from strangers who felt like kin. "Brilliant twist!" they'd say, or "This moved me to tears." Each like, each share, was a hit of dopamine that kept him chained to his desk.
By Domingo Mirandaabout a year ago in Humans
Retro Tech 100
Retro Tech 100 The Sound Era: 10 Devices That Changed How We Heard the World. Before streaming became invisible, music was something you touched. It had texture, temperature, and ritual. You flipped switches, pressed clunky buttons, wound tape with a pencil, and carried sound like a secret. Every beat took effort; every song, a bit of patience.
By Sayed Zewayedabout a year ago in Humans
Experts Everywhere, But Where Is the Wisdom?
We are living in a time where experts seem to be everywhere. You can find them on television shows, YouTube videos, podcasts, and social media platforms. Every day, people are sharing opinions, facts, and advice about how to live, what to buy, and what to believe. Some speak with great confidence, others show off their degrees or years of study — and all of them sound very sure of what they are saying.
By Bilal khan about a year ago in Humans
How Navigation Changed More Than Just Travel. AI-Generated.
1. The Day We Stopped Being Lost There was a time when getting lost was a daily part of human life — a farmer missing a familiar trail, a sailor misreading the stars, a traveler relying on strangers for direction. The invention of navigation systems didn’t just solve a logistical problem. It redefined what it means to know where you are.
By Ahmet Kıvanç Demirkıranabout a year ago in Humans
One Daily Walk, a Whole New Mind
The Day I Finally Started Walking It began on a day when my thoughts were too loud to ignore. My head felt heavy, my chest tight. I wasn’t sad exactly — just stuck. I remember staring at my phone, scrolling endlessly, and feeling like I was watching my own life go by.
By Dadullah Danishabout a year ago in Humans
