literature
Travel literature includes guide books, travel memoirs and the curious experiences that happen when you seek adventure.
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
The Neighborhood
Sadiya entered the automatic sliding doors into the lobby of a hotel. It was the first one she spotted in the town she would sojourn in for a week's time, and it appeared to be a decent place to settle. It smelled like a peaceful home, rather than the usual cheap coffee and mothballs that accompany small town motels.
By Kaelyn Williams5 years ago in Wander
The Pageturners
The warm afternoon sun shines through the window of white two-story suburban home located in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. A shaggy haired 18 year old boy is standing in the middle of his bedroom holding a guitar in his hand while standing over a distortion pedal. He starts to play part of an original song that he usually does with his band as he imagines performing in front of a sold out crowd at the Filmore Auditorium. All he wants is to have that success on stage; he can't see himself doing anything else.
By John O'Neill5 years ago in Wander
Grandpa's Notebook
"Hey it's over here!" Amanda shouted from across the attic. "Can you hear me Demi?" I could, but something I saw in the corner of my eye had caught all my attention. It seemed to be an ancient-looking black notebook, with a leather cover and initials carved into the spine. OV, that was Grandpa’s name. Orso Vecoli. Last summer while me and Amanda had been visiting Italy, before he died, he had told me how his name meant “Bear.” I thought that was cool, but I never did tell him that. I didn’t know him very well, and seeing Amanda so heartbroken over his death made me feel guiltier. I should have at least talked to him more, I thought to myself, before I was awoken from my pondering. “Hey! Earth to Demi!” I couldn’t help but laugh at the robot voice my sister was doing. Even though I knew she was sad to be back in Italy for grandpa’s funeral, she never let me see it. She was determined to make this summer just as fun as the rest. I felt sorry for her but I couldn’t help but be relieved. I wouldn't know what to say if she started talking about Grandpa.
By Zahra Ansari5 years ago in Wander
