Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Wander.
The Deserter
Everything was covered in dust. It was a faintly reddish dust, similar to the colour of the bricks which lined my walls, but the dust that collected on the tables and chairs was a little darker. Sometimes when the walls would shake I could see the dust come free and descend through the air. The question had occurred to me before, but suddenly I needed to know the answer. I walked over to the processor and entered my inquiry, pressing each letter key precisely. There was a sliding mechanical snap when a letter was successfully submitted. The screen, from its own faint womb of copper powder, shone its thin light and a yellow arrow circling after its tail appeared, indicating that my question was in the process of being answered. Through my window I observed the city’s landscape of steeples and smoke. The processor trickled out little blinking sounds of electric thought. Somewhere I heard the engine of a delivery car strain. Soon the evening train would pass by and the last of the day’s dust would descend. I glanced back at the arrow on the screen turning in a steady roundabout. I picked up my Personal Finance report, fresh from the mailbox. According to my balance they still hadn’t fixed the error. Last month the Commission of Economic Stratification had deposited $20,000 into my credit account. My Citizen Stipend was $200. They were always making mistakes but never to this degree. I started to let myself believe the misstep would remain unnoticed. It would certainly change things. What is this dust? The yellow arrow circled.
By Kayla Whitney5 years ago in Wander
Lucy Finding her Missing Pieces
As Lucy sat under her favorite tree a Green Ash in her favorite park she often daydreamed about what her life would have been like if she hadn’t been adopted. She often wondered this because she had always felt very alone ever since she was three and a half years old and was put up for adoption. Lucy felt as if there was a huge piece of herself missing but she could never figure out what it was. She never truly felt like she was fully a member of her adopted family. Lucy often thought of herself as the black sheep of the family and that was okay with her because she still loved her adopted family with all her heart. As Lucy sat there thinking about all these things and enjoying her lunch she saw in the corner of her eye, a dog jump up on a bench and start to rummage through the trash can that was right next to the bench. She could tell the dog was famished so she got up quickly but quietly and went to the bench. She didn’t want to startle the dog so she slowly put a big piece of chicken from her salad on a napkin and put it at the edge of the bench. Then she took the lid of a container and filled it with water and put it down right next to the bench. She quietly walked back to her favorite spot under the tree and watched the dog enjoy the piece of chicken and water. Lucy had never seen this dog before, let alone in this park, but yet felt so connected to the dog as if she knew it. The dog wouldn’t come over to her like she had hoped so Lucy told herself heck I’ll just have to come back to my favorite park tomorrow and sit under my favorite tree and wait patiently for the dog to come back and try again. She really wanted to see the dog up close and pet the dog. She hoped that if she bonded with the dog, just maybe the dog would let her take it home with her so they could care for each other. That way the dog wouldn’t be alone and hungry anymore. As Lucy watched the dog run off to the other side of the park she tried to hurry and gather her things so she could follow the dog to see where it was going. But by the time she packed up all of her belongings the dog was nowhere to be seen. Lucy was sad but wasn’t discouraged for she had a plan.
By Lupe Hernandez5 years ago in Wander
My Mrs. Williams
Sitting quietly in Brooklyn Heights public library Erica leans on her elbow, smashing her fist against a sore cheek longingly looking through foreign books like The Tale of Genji, Pedro Paramo, and The Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas. She sighs glancing at the history book that has been glaring at her screaming “OPEN ME, READ ME, STUDY ME.”
By Adrien Celeste5 years ago in Wander
Little Black Book
Little Black Book I am a retired single woman who travels moderately to visit my children. Before all departures I check the front compartment for the nicely tucked barf bag. Funny, but you never know when turbulence is going to hit, again and again! It was a Sunny afternoon, and I anticipated a calm flight. However, I did check in the front seat compartment for my trusty bag. I looked in and saw a small Moleskin Black notebook tucked tightly in the bottom. I reached in and pulled it out. I looked around at everyone putting their bags in the overhead compartments and settling in for the flight. I looked to see if I was in the correct seat, thinking I sat in the wrong one. As everyone was settling in, I took it upon myself to open it. Inside was a cashier check for $20,000! It was a blank one at that! My heart started racing, I looked up to see if anyone was watching me. I moved the check aside and found a list of people’s names and addresses. Next to each person’s name was a little information about them. One said James Doran of St. Paul. The next Rebecca Anderson also of St. Paul. The list had 8 names and different locations.
By Kari Malewska5 years ago in Wander
For What It's Worth
For What It’s Worth One swift kick from a spiteful mule was about to propel Jonathan and his father toward the new century and change the trajectory of everything. In less than a second, Jonathan was no longer standing on his own feet. He was shot through the air and careening, with a stream of water arcing high overhead. He never let go of the bucket as he was thrown ten feet back and into a heap. In five breaths he asserted that he was in fact breathing, was now someplace else, on the ground, and the pain began to run through him. Trickling like water, and searing hot, spreading, through his whole body. A body that was still too young to understand that this injury would leave him changed. His leg twisted in an unfamiliar way toward the house and then he was screaming.
By Allison Tait5 years ago in Wander
Uncovered
I feel the cold down my spine as I enter. The chill, the tension, it all rests here to haunt me as I make my steps within. I keep telling myself that exploration is a good thing, uncovering whatever lies in your path. And yet, this strange, lonely bookshop took it to a whole other level.
By Davion Moore5 years ago in Wander
The Event
The Event By: Meko Kaprelian He found himself walking La Rambla, the bustle of people and the foreign sounds that bounced off his ears gave him the sense of being small in a large place, but the tree-lined cobblestone boulevard, open only to foot traffic, left him romantically comfortable; all at the same time. It was early July in Barcelona; the warm sunny weather had the streets full of activities and tourists, that stimulated the senses. As he walked the Gothic-inspired city that’s nestled between the majestic Collserola mountains and the sapphire blue waters of the Mediterranean, he felt reassured that the location for “The Event” he had been planning for months couldn’t be more perfect. James on break from his duties as an inspector for a company contracted by the US government to build housing for the military in Djibouti, Africa, arrived in Spain a full day ahead of her, to meet with the planner he’d been working with online to finalize the preparations for “The Event”; following the GPS map on his phone he made his way to the meeting location.
By Meko James 5 years ago in Wander
Herbarium
The botanists at the Botanic Gardens had been annoyed with me for months. Any plant I came across that looked interesting, I’d bring to them asking what it was. It didn’t take them long to ID the plants I brought them but they weren’t very welcoming to my presence. I started showing up once a week, and soon once a week became twice a week. The first plant they ever identified for me was a clipping from a bush growing in my front yard called “Rue”. They told me that the scientific name was Ruta graveolens and that at one time it was considered medicinal. I found out after doing some research that the plant had a gentle antispasmodic function and could ease cramping and spasms in muscles. I found this to be incredibly fascinating. I never looked at plants the same way after that. My mind concluded that all of the plants in my area were worth investigating. I decided to gather wild weeds regularly to have them identified by the experts.
By Owanrin Obara (Monticue Connally)5 years ago in Wander
Desert Riches
When Julie had her epiphany, she was at the end of her rope. As in quite literally at the end of her rope, hanging off the side of a cliff somewhere in the middle of the desert, with no one else around for hundreds of miles. She had hiked for three days to get to where she was now, hanging from a dry plateau full of nothing but red rocks and skeletons of sage brush, a dried-up ancient seabed carved through by rivers a thousand feet below. The late winter sun glowed golden far off on the horizon behind her, setting the landscape below and the cliff face inches from her nose ablaze in light and shadow, red rock blooming under the day’s last light. Her head swam with exhaustion and dehydration. For a moment she thought she could see them, the ancient sea creatures that had once swum far below, monstrous shadows weaving in the deep.
By Lisa Caruana5 years ago in Wander
The Telltale of the Unseen Who Sees
His body ached. Dust was still settling. The battle had been somewhat fierce. They had to chase whoever wasn’t dead. As Alistar sat to eat his bread and drink water, the sun smoldered intensely. He broke bread, wiped sweat from his brow, and wondered. Underneath some stubble there lie a black book. He picked it up. The pages were aged and some water damaged. There were words in a native language he could not decipher.
By Jerusalem Biangco5 years ago in Wander
