fact or fiction
Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about the military and the physical, logistical, emotional and moral obstacles involved.
The Red Heart Shaped Locket
The day the world ended I was in a cell under the ground. A cell stored with food and water, enough to last for a year. The world ended in every way I knew it could. It ended in the sense that there was no longer an endless supply of food which one could purchase with green paper. There was no longer clean water in the faucets. There was only death and suffering everywhere I looked. Scorched grounds without crops. Water polluted with dead fish, and dead carcasses everywhere there used to be animals and humans.
Melissa MeintjesPublished 3 years ago in ServeReality
In the Real; The Apocalypse? I hesitate to use the word love, so often misused and quoted and if I’m honest with you that would be a far lesser description to use for how I felt about my experiential reality now.
Justin “Jud” HaywoodPublished 3 years ago in ServeWar: A Creative Nonfiction Piece
Sunlight poured in from the window, the rays gentle and warm, promising a relaxing day. An old man sat in a tan recliner nearby, listening as voices young and old wafted through the open windows of the porch. Bird chatter and chirping insects joined in. A fresh breeze blew through, and the old man closed his blue-grey eyes with a wheezed sigh.
Victoria RussoPublished 3 years ago in ServeAre we alone?
Are we alone? The sonar picked up the first indications, long before the view in the periscope showed anything. Even with the magnified view, the horizon was empty. Yet the continuous beep from the sonar demanded attention. The officer of the watch decided against a general action stations but she did call the captain.
Peter RosePublished 3 years ago in ServeThe Final Battle
The Mast pierced the horizon, a shadowed blur slowly formed before the rising sun. Another large ship, bringing death and destruction to his people.
- Top Story - April 2021
The Elusive Merlot
The soldier rubbed his hands together as he stepped out into the crisp, autumn air. The blue hour had just receded, and night had fallen. Smoke from the barrel fires wafted past him in thick clumps. Street lamps lit the path ahead of him, the path that would take him through the cracked concrete streets of Gospic. He turned left of the barracks, tucking his chin into his jacket collar, and then made his way past the football field, the crumbling apartment blocks and finally the government building that stood tall on the corner, unaware of its insignificance in the grand scheme of the world. He nodded to passing locals, parents of friends he had known since high school, relatives he actively avoided interacting with unless he was forced to at family engagements.
Monique KostelacPublished 3 years ago in Serve THEY FOUGHT BARE BREASTED
The 1st Tennessee Cavalry Volunteers for the Union were on the Northern side of a raging Chattahoochee river, and the Rebels were camped out on the Southern side to protect Atlanta from General Sherman. They had all just survived a rowdy homemade 4th of July celebration where General E. F. Noyes lost a leg, and Sherman almost got hit himself, so they were in fine spirits for their next venture, and it was just around the corner. Meanwhile the two sides engaged in “trash talk”.
Roxy LentzPublished 3 years ago in ServeTHE STORM THAT SAVED THE DAY
THE STORM THAT SAVED THE DAY Sometimes Truth is indeed stranger than Fiction and this story has always captured my imagination and I have often wondered why this has not been made into a Movie. This is a true Historical event that is very interesting indeed!
Julia LindsayPublished 3 years ago in ServeDiaries of the Lost Ones
My father served in Vietnam, my niece is in the air force, my cousins served in various military. It turns out there have been over two hundred conflicts, wars, civil wars, etc., since I was born. I knew of only a handful.
Joanna CelestePublished 3 years ago in ServeBest Friends
James Levy sat at the folding card table that he used to eat his meals, read, and write. A stack of seven legal pads with clean, crisp white pages sat in the top left corner of the table, nestled against the wall. James used the pads for everything: journaling, therapy notes, gratitude lists, and incomplete stories. Seven ball point pens with black ink waited their turn in a dingy coffee mug next to the legal pads. The banker's box under the table housed hundreds of pages of James’ writing, organized by subject and date. A pocket-sized black Moleskin notebook was open to a handwritten page titled “Week of 12/11/16.” Today was Sunday. His sole obligation was to get groceries.
Takeia R. JohnsonPublished 3 years ago in ServeThe Murder of Xalapa (Part I)
The most beautiful man of the English-speaking world is about to do the unthinkable. He is quite mad, but he is more sad than angry. He is tall and has the perfect tan sin of the Caribbean and the Mediterranean Sea. He just lost a good friend and his first friend, Mr. Yépez.
Arnoldo AlonsoPublished 3 years ago in ServeHome Too Soon
In my short adult life I've been known as many things. A mistake, a blessing, a compeer, corrival. The love of someone's life, nothing... a beggar, a thrull, half live or partially undead. living off the bits and pieces from the few civilized who chose to spare it. Hunger pangs rock me in an out of sleep, like an angler's line on an empty tarn. "These train carts sleep a lot better when ain't nobody on em". I heard in the distance Another exclaimed as he adjusted himself in recumbency. Homelessness mustn't suit me well I thought, 7 months in and My pride still thwarts my reality. Unfamiliar with the uncertainties each night brings, let alone the encroaching city air; a nightly reminder that i'm not at "home". Wherever home is. A veteran, not gone long enough to be a hero, home before it was okay to be forgotten. Here I sit. Existing In a non essential existence. "Existing"I glanced one eye to see 8bit sand draining from the digit hourglass on the platform display. "This is home for the night." I told myself as The hour neared 3am I found safety in that thought.
Devin MoorePublished 3 years ago in Serve