Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Wander.
Autopilot
Her brown eyes peer inquisitively at my fingers as I fumble through some paperwork on my home desk. The clutter, the unopened envelopes, and the pens sprawled all over made me all the more nervous. I try to clean and organize the mess but every time I try to motivate myself to tackle the project, self-doubt and anxiety take over.
By Fabiola De Armas3 years ago in Wander
The Secret
There is an old saying you hear by the veterans of the Camino de Santiago while walking the ancient pilgrim route, “the way always provides.” As I sit in the airport bar in Porto, Portugal, drinking whiskey, my crutches sitting next to me and waiting for my flight back home to San Francisco – I can’t help but ponder over my journey across Spain and the secret I kept along it.
By Clayton Goodwin3 years ago in Wander
A Tragedy Treasured
The high-pitched chime of the thrift store's entryway sensor marked the start of my typical Saturday morning. Row after row of beautiful clothing stretched before me, donated by LA's upper class after being worn just once or twice. Typical of Pavlov conditioning, I felt a surge of dopamine as I entered one of the few places in LA that didn’t require me to create a façade. Ironic, since the treasures I found here played a major role in my ability to maintain said façade. None of my daddy's-money peers at Los Angeles' Escuela de Arte had figured out that I was a scholarship-dependent kid from poverty-stricken Mendota. Spending $10 here each weekend had allowed me to maintain the desired persona of a vintage-loving wall flower: looking the part while not interacting with anyone enough to let my secret slip. I was careful to keep most conversations focused on critiquing my oil paintings, redirecting anytime personal details began surfacing. The last thing I wanted was for someone to find out about my sob story- a druggie dad who walked out when I was 10 and left my mother and I to scrape by in our 1-bedroom condo resembling Rio de Genaro shanties. Artists had to reach a certain level of fame before tragic back stories were considered interesting.
By Amber Terrell3 years ago in Wander
Taxi Aquarium
On the next traffic light on 7th avenue and 55th street the Little Tree car air freshener hanging on the rear mirror once again finished swaying. It had long lost its commercial "fresh pine" scent and even before the radio was stolen during the black out, it had become more of a nostalgia item, a reminder of things gone by and perhaps of things that could have been.
By Verner Freeson3 years ago in Wander
For Paloma
“And here we are, Paloma! Your home for the next 5 months, or until you get transferred. Newbies get the top bunk so don’t hit your head on the way up, now! This cabin hasn’t been used since the last dry dock, so it might be a bit squeaky; just adds character. If you need me, just ring my deck phone. I left the number on top of your bed.”
By Nakeyta Moore 3 years ago in Wander
For Queen and Country
“They’ll come for me one day. I know that this will have happened long before you read this… but I need my family to know that I did everything I could. The world must know what is happening here, and should it cost me my life… it costs me my life. ”. – Arthur P
By Daniel Coombs3 years ago in Wander
Choices
Jenna pulled open the door of the old VW bus and nearly fainted from the heat and stench that wafted out. It didn’t help that the thing had been sitting on the vacant back lot of her parents’ Sacramento place for more than 10 years. Nobody had been in it since her grandad died five years ago. God knew what was inside. Grandma refused to let them get rid of it because it had been so special to him – and to her. She told of the trips they’d made in it in their late teens and early 20s – upstate New York, Canada, New Mexico. Gene always wanted Jenna to have that bus, Grandma said.
By Dana Griffith3 years ago in Wander