Realistic Fiction is made up of stories about events that did not happen but could have. These stories seem like real life, with characters dealing with real-life matters.
Realistic fiction stories are contemporary, taking place in the present or recent past, in a setting that is an accurate portrayal of the world as we know it.
The plot, characters, dialogue, and narrative structure are believable.
When they met, he never imagined his life would be so full of love. Though his wife has autism and moderate cerebral palsy, oftentimes acting much younger than her biological age to the point where she sees him as her one and only protector, he loves her...
That November night, Mira would later learn, went down in history. It seemed normal enough as the nuns tended the various children in the dormitory. But before they could even get to sleep, the noises from the heart of the city began. Mira thought she hea...
That Thursday, all pupils were called into the minor-hall in the convent, where the Mother Superior, her voice cracking occasionally, told them that under a decree from the German High Command and with immediate effect, the Roman Catholic nuns would no lo...
It was 1938 and Mira Wurtz, eleven years old, loved to eavesdrop the gossip of the customers in the grocery store where she bought the weekend bread and milk for her busy Grossmama (grandmother), Jana Kanner. Here in the city of Vienna, talk, for a long t...
Morning stiff air flowing through a heap of dense trash, segregating the bygone needles with broken glass pipes. Coiling and cycling by the strong gusts, a garbage and substance whirlwind, revolving the matter of excesses rubbish. Consuming in the wake, a...
Sandra and Melanie were talented thespians. Way beyond good; no one had realized they were the best actors in the whole damn school. Melanie was such a chameleon, not even Sandra had twigged to Mel’s self-nomination for leading actress in a goth part. San...
Getting up to the attic is a chore these days. Hell, some mornings just getting out of bed is a chore. Still on the right side of the lawn though, which is something. So full of history up here. The weight of it lies heavy on my shoulders at times. Feathe...
My name is James Briggs, and I have a story to tell. My life was changed forever by a set of carefully chosen words, spoken in a carefully chosen manner. Those profound words were to influence the path I chose. In life, we all make choices; some of these...
She thought it but dared not speak. Marie leered at her daughter instead. She loved Tammi, but at that moment, Marie didn’t much care for her. Her child’s actions angered her. They embarrassed her. They reeked of weakness, failure, and regret. “Why, Biscu...
Lily Burke walked the beach every morning as long as it wasn’t raining cats and dogs. On the weekdays, she walked briskly to keep in shape. But on the weekends, she allowed herself to meander along the shoreline, looking for shells to add to her already o...
When you kill a man, you take away everything they have, and everything they will ever have. It’s a big responsibility. It’s not something I enjoy, but it’s the only thing I’m good at. I don’t just go around killing people for fun. I work for my governmen...
Telephone poles whipped past her, each separate in her headlights but blurred and indistinct. The girl was traveling north. She drove the speed limit along the two-lane federal highway. Into the night she drove once more. Alone, heading towards the big ci...
Becky Patterson arrived at the coffee shop short of breath after hurrying from the only parking spot she'd been able to find, five blocks away. Her hair disheveled and face rosy from the brisk walk, she slid into a seat opposite her sister and gratefully...
~ The End ~ Becky Patterson sat in the dimly lit room, her head bowed slightly, staring blankly into space. She neither knew nor cared how long she’d been there. Finally she heard a light rap on the door, which opened before she could respond. “Excuse me,...
