literature
Travel literature includes guide books, travel memoirs and the curious experiences that happen when you seek adventure.
Silence
I was nine years old when the seven-seven bombings happened. I don’t really remember anything about that day. My family didn’t personally know anyone who died. There was one thing, though, that we all took from it, etched into our heads like an unspoken rule: An abandoned bag on a train is no longer just a mild inconvenience to its owner, it’s a genuine cause for widespread panic. Any other time I would have pulled the alarm immediately, but something about the circumstances made me hesitate…
By Ingrid Allan5 years ago in Wander
The Little Black Book
Penelope Rose was just like any other twenty-something. She had an average job at MedTekk, answering phone calls about insurance coverage. She had a few close friends that she would hang out with on the weekends. The oddest thing about her was her long-lost father, who disappeared one night to never return. She sat with her headset on at MedTekk, typing up a work-up of coverage from a patient who had just called. It was reaching 2pm. She flipped her long chestnut braid over her thin shoulder as she placed her hand on a picture of her father that was pinned to her wall. He was of average height with shaggy brown hair, a very trimmed beard and was always smiling his crooked smile, as if he was always up to something exciting. Penelope's heart seized at the thought of him. He had vanished when she was eight years old, and she never learned if he had actually run off or something more sinister happened to him. She still had all these questions racing through her head. Had he left her on purpose? Where was he now? Did he have another family? She sighed. All that was behind her now, and she should move on, but it's hard when you don't get closure. She grew up in the foster care system until she was eighteen, then moved into her own apartment. She sat in her cubicle, staring at a bright blue screen in a daze thinking back on the last time she had seen her father, when the phone rang. Now, this was typical for her job, but this particular phone call was not.
By Cassandra Andresky5 years ago in Wander
The little black book, a small window of opportunity
It seemed to be some kind of avant-garde art project that had captured the world's attention. Across every continent, people were reporting the mysterious appearance and disappearance of a little black book and how it changed their lives irrevocably.
By Asia Johnson5 years ago in Wander
Deep In the Withers
As the smoke dissipated, it became clear that what was left standing was not a man or even human. With the pinpoints of light from distant stars, he could just make out the slick glistening of something wet. Fixed in a trance of concentration, trying to bring form to the darkness, the glow of green eyes distorted from full spheres to slits peering back at him.
By Alison Forrest 5 years ago in Wander
A Trip to the Beyond
The beguiling image moved towards me, as though a shadow with no grits and guts followed. In the clammy tapered alley, I could hear my heart pulsating my eardrums hurriedly. The eerie looking graffiti on the dirt-splattered walls seemed to form a nefarious canopy over my head, under the full moon night. My eyes were wide and astute, I could feel my unearthly deep breaths turning chillier as they hit the freshly wet brick walls, making my throat as dry as a bone. I took the hardest and loudest gulp I had ever taken and gathered the courage to move away from this daunting imagery. The shadow strutted closer…
By Akshita Jain5 years ago in Wander
Magnolia Tree
It was another toss and turn night. One of many. Upon waking the images go through his head. Remembering the stark sky and the dead branches with a couple of crows flying up above. “Jack!!! Jock!”His name kept repeating. A voice never heard before “Come this way!” Stepping over gnarled branches the trunk turned on its side in the last hurrah of death. Something gleams in the dirt. Getting down on hands and knees he begins to dig around the object. Alarm ringing and then wake up. The same question again. What’s the treasure under the tree?
By Laura Corriveau5 years ago in Wander
The red
I’m usually out at night during the ripe hours of the city’s silence. Passing non existent footsteps, gracing street lights with no weight, pushing nothing but air and dust sparks from day old construction workers. The weight of the lens moves heavy on my shoulders with nothing to capture but the shadow I hear as I walk on light. Crossing street poles, cracks on the floor, visualising a future on naked mountain scapes overlooking colours of Barragán to keep the night interesting.
By Rowland Reyes Martinez5 years ago in Wander
On the Road Again
I love a good road trip, always have. I’m Charlene ~ adventure seeker, writer, beach bum and most notably, a loner. I need to think smart and keep this duffle bag simple. That’s my best friend, Samantha, or Sam, over there texting on my bed. She still questions my decision to venture out alone. She keeps asking me, “Why can’t you wait until summer, when I have vacation time, and I’ll go too?” I snicker innocently, “Sam, you know I love a spring fling. I need this trip, now! Something is telling me this getaway is about more than I know. Something special is in the air. Don’t worry, I’ll call every day, text at every stop.”
By Kimberly Mitchell5 years ago in Wander
Black Book and Dagger
I haven’t ever really told my story to anyone. Or at least not all the way through … bits and pieces here and there. So unbelievable it is to the ordinary person that none are really able to believe. Most can’t and so won’t perceive beyond the ordinary. This is a sorry thing. Sorry too is it, that in most cases, people are only seeking superficial satisfaction confined to this material plane, where surely moth doth corrupt.
By Mandy West5 years ago in Wander
Hotel 20k
Euphoric! It was that feeling, that very special sensational feeling. Euphoria!, I think. As I stand in the airport boarding my flight to Manhattan, New York. Thinking back on the time I wanted this , I planned this and I dreamt of this and now I can barely contain the euphoria now that I'm living this as I swipe my boarding pass. I take my window seat and watch out the window as the plane takes off.
By Courtney Carter5 years ago in Wander
