literature
Travel literature includes guide books, travel memoirs and the curious experiences that happen when you seek adventure.
Diary of A Lost Mother
‘My Darling Ambrose, Is that still your name? I hope so. To me, you will always be Ambrose…even if you aren’t mine anymore. Please understand, we’ve never truly been apart. I have kept a piece of my heart just for you, where I will treasure you always. I’d say it wasn’t easy, but truthfully it was – at least in some ways. I loved you, oh how I loved you; but that’s exactly what made it easier. I wanted you to have the world, and this was the only way to give it to you. Now, if it’s alright, I’d like to share mine with you. I’m not as young as I used to be – at least not on the outside. My friends say I’ll never slow down; I’ll just fade with the setting sun. I hope so – life is too short for ‘slow’. But I don’t want to fade. I want to leave my mark and I want you to know me. Maybe that’s selfish? I’m ok with it.’
By Lucy Thatcher5 years ago in Wander
Following a Dream
I woke slowly, embracing the feeling of warm contentment that I can only really capture on the weekends when I’m not slamming my fist down on my alarm, desperate for five more minutes of blissful sleep. Then my alarm went off. Slamming my fist down on it, I padded to the bathroom to start my day.
By lochleen macgregor5 years ago in Wander
Aunt Mildred's Diary
The clock struck 3:00 as Michelle sat down at Dumbarton Central. “What am I doing here,” she thought as a train horn blew and steam billowed in the distance of the bustling central Scotland station. Just after her 25th birthday, much to the dismay of her mother, she flew off to the UK on what her family thought was a worthless endeavor. The tall, slightly gangly, but beautiful strawberry blonde justified, “Well here is better than there,” after months of spinning her wheels and getting nowhere. Bored was an understatement; the fresh college graduate was finding her small hometown of Middletown exceedingly slow after the whirlwind urban adventure that was her 5 years at NYU.
By Kristi Hall5 years ago in Wander
1111 Wishes Way
The smell of dust and old pages lingered around each corner of the labyrinthine store. Jessica ran her finger gently across the spines that lined the shelves, following their in and out pattern as her senses began to anchor and the tightness in her chest released its grip.
By Karli Golightly5 years ago in Wander
That's how memories are made
“Double espresso?” called the waiter, looking around the café’s patio area, expectantly. “Oh, yes please. That’s mine” Ella responded timidly, looking up from her book and raising her hand. Slightly doubting herself, she glanced around to make sure the drink was indeed hers and that she hadn’t just claimed someone else’s coffee. She felt reassured as the waiter nodded and moved towards her. Ella’s eyes followed him as he approached, stopping momentarily as she noticed an older lady smiling at her. Ella smiled back, with more confidence than usual. Something about this lady was comforting, almost welcoming. She was well-dressed with kindly eyes, and seemed friendlier than most of the strangers hurrying about the busy, city streets. Ella’s attention was brought back to her drink as the waiter placed it down firmly in front of her, before turning and heading back inside, not waiting to hear Ella’s quiet “thank you”.
By Simon Wiltshire5 years ago in Wander
PERGATORY
PURGATORY New Orleans is a city often described as European in feel. She is a master of masquerade. “The Paris of the South,” or “The Crescent City” (named for the curve in the Mississippi where the French Quarter sits), “The Big Easy,” “The City That Care Forgot” are a few of her personas. You might hear “Hollywood South” because she is beautiful and photogenic, a perfect, ready-made, film set. In many ways, New Orleans is the entire continent of Europe all jammed between the river and the lake, making life a bit crowded.
By Adele Elliott5 years ago in Wander
Where the Wind and the Leaves Play Music
One of Jessica’s favorite feelings is waking up thinking she has to go to work before realizing she actually has the entire day off. A warm, blissful sensation blossoms in her abdomen. She springs out of bed to make coffee. The weeks of rain are over. The sun is finally shining in Philadelphia, and as she turns on her kettle, she notices out the window patches of dormant blue sky, peeking through ash-dusted clouds.
By Scott Maxwell5 years ago in Wander





