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.
Wheelin' Benjamin Franklin
Prologue I bought my third Moleskine notebook today- the classic black one, because my second is gone. It sucks that I lost my precious notebook, for that is what I call ‘J-1: The 2nd Season’.
Lailany Manangkil MagnoPublished 3 years ago in JournalEverything 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!
Lisa R BarryPublished 3 years ago in JournalFiction Becomes a Sin
Alternative Reality I’ve aged, but not like cheese or fine wine. My breasts these days are getting lower and lower. My young son bites when he latches. My husband says he loves them as low as they sit.
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.
Eddy FurlongPublished 3 years ago in JournalA Smile For Charlie
Emma was a carefree spirit. A single woman by choice with plenty of alone time where she would dream of her perfect life. She would keep those dreams simple and plausible. She considered herself a chaser, someone who went after her dreams.
Jody KuperavagePublished 3 years ago in JournalThe 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.
Laura ToddPublished 3 years ago in JournalUltimate Gift
Leaving the office building, the girl took a long look back at it, and her dream, which seemed to be getting farther and farther. Another refusal. Another NO. It was the fifth time this month already, that her potential investors refused to fund her project. Emma could not understand why. How could they be so oblivious and not see all the possibilities, that come with her idea? And she didn’t ask for that much, to be honest, only 20 grand. No job, no money, but full of ambition. Just like her dad. Speak of the devil. The phone rang.
Teresa UlianytskaPublished 3 years ago in JournalLittle Black Book
Keep writing. Those two words bounced around in my head all day. Today was my last day at a job I absolutely hated. I endured five long years at a company that had passed over me twice for a promotion I clearly deserved. I was the last female left in my department and the lack of estrogen at work at taken its toll on me. As an adult, there are these irritating things called bills that you have to pay to provide shelter and warmth for yourself. You also have to eat…to stay alive. So, I as much as hated the grueling weeks at Growth Interface Designs (GID), I enjoyed eating and staying alive much more. Plus, I had written a few short stories that I felt had real potential to be published as books. I was tired of not fulfilling my creative desires and not chasing my true passion as a writer.
Allanah DobsonPublished 3 years ago in JournalThe Wrong Foot
I felt dirty as I walked out of the job interview. Did I just get played? The answers they wanted were clearly written all over their faces, so I gave them exactly what they were looking for. If they knew I was full of shit they didn't seem to mind. They hired me on the spot. Why did I accept? This job seems horrible. But the pay is better than I'd get anywhere else.
Sarah Rosanna BuschPublished 3 years ago in JournalWriter's Block Meets $20,000
“Who leaves someone over salt and pepper shakers?” I caught her side-eye. “Okay,” I conceded, “the price of my new salt and pepper shakers. He actually said if I was going to spend that kind of money on salt and pepper shakers, I should ‘bloody hell’ get a job. His words: bloody hell. Can you believe it? It used to be all romantic walks on the beach at sunset. Now it’s just ‘Get a job.’ I have a job!”
The life I want
A whisper of condensation blurs my vision as the spark beneath my eyes ignites. Jumping into a window-shopping spree, I see the mirage of myself running as I race past the shop displays. The dishevelled state of my unkempt hair reminded me of the aftermath of a frilly dress set aflame the night after prom. At least I had the sense to hide it with a beanie, although it’s not doing the best job at it.
The Befores: Part I: Chapter I
Anthony lied in bed and stared—blood-shot, sleepless—at the three large cracks that snaked out from the center of his ceiling fan.
Andrew Martin DodsonPublished 3 years ago in Journal