fact or fiction
Is it a fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores travel myths to help you avoid making that wrong turn.
P.P.Paris 1941
We arrived at our Paris apartment in the middle of a sunny afternoon, anticipating another wonderful vacation in the city of light. The seventh arrondissement, how we loved the area. Bakeries everywhere, wine shops, cafes, people with two baguettes, one to eat on the run, and one to take home. It was good to be back.
By Joanne Smith-Camm6 years ago in Wander
The Snake Island Curse
Part 1 The Necklace There was George, whose parents died in a car crash. Now, he’s an orphan. In his despair of losing everyone he loved, he trashed his parents home. Then he found a necklace, it was gold with an emerald stone in the middle. Underneath the necklace was a little black book. But George didn’t care about the book, he cared more about the necklace. It was gold. Ever since his parents died, he faced so many financial problems. The bank is foreclosing the house, and bills are piling up. George thought of his future. He took the necklace and went to a pawnshop. He met the pawnshop owner who gave him a warm smile. ‘’What can I do for you today friend?'' ''Hi, how much can I get for this necklace?’’ George was pleased. He sold the necklace to the pawnshop owner for twenty thousand dollars. He went home, packed a bag, and bought a ticket, off to somewhere far. He wants to start a new life away from all the pain and problems. He packed just the essentials and the little black book he found. He thought maybe it’s a diary he could read for the trip. It would be nice to know more about his parents. As he was riding the bus, he opened the book and to his surprise, he hurriedly stopped the bus and went back to the pawnshop. He tried to buy back the necklace, but the pawnshop guy refused to sell him back the necklace. He said that after the necklace was sold, a gentleman in a nice suit came and bought the necklace. George asked if he could take a look at the receipt. And the pawnshop guy said- ‘’What receipt?’’ So George put fifty on the counter. The pawnshop guy took out the receipt and left with the money. He found out that the gentleman’s name was Michael Bruchard. He left the store and started to search about Bruchard. It turns out he was a history professor. George went to the university where Bruchard was teaching. He waited for him until his class was over and spoke to the professor. He offered to purchase back the necklace, but the professor said it was a gift for his wife so unfortunately he can’t return the necklace back. But George knew he didn’t have a wife or kids. ‘’It was nice meeting you George. I’m sorry I can’t give you back your necklace, I hope you understand...wife and all you know..’’-Bruchard laughs.. ‘’I get it’’ -George smiled and left. He followed the professor home after his work. He planned to steal the necklace back, but the professor caught him. He told George he can’t have the necklace back and he knows very well why. They both fought. During the fight, they knocked over an ashtray with a lighted cigar on it, and it started a fire. The fire quickly grew, there were smoke everywhere. And it was getting harder to breathe. The professor lounged at him, and George fell. Mr. Bruchard, very angry and hyped told George how he envied his parents and how stupid they were to not use the necklace to their advantage. The boy was filled with rage. He kicked the professor with both his feet. The professor fell back towards a cabinet and a vase fell on his head, dropping him unconscious. George quickly scanned through the professor’s desk. He found the necklace and quickly left the scene. The firefighters, police and ambulance came. There were a crowd of people trying to leave the building. It was a perfect getaway. He went straight to the port together with all of his belongings, stole a boat and drove off to the open sea...
By Tricia Parrenas6 years ago in Wander
Did I just meet a Huldufolk
Meeting Isle of Skye Artist Bill Lawrence, maybe. I had just finished a hike in the Cuillins on the Isle of Skye in Scotland, I was blissfully exhausted as I drove back to my lodgings looking forward to relaxing with a wee dram in front of the huge fireplace.
By Savor Whisky 6 years ago in Wander
Magical Moments
Few things in life satisfy my sense of adventure like travel to Europe. The beauty and culture fascinate me - and the colour! Light bouncing off the limestone buildings is a yellow both intense and pale; rainy days are a million shades of grey and the sunny days, an azure blue-as-blue can be. Where I live in Canada is magestically beautiful but there is something about the light here. As my the flight descends in Europe I feel as if I’ve come home again - despite having no family history in this part of the world. These trips have for me, been rich with culture, beauty and mystery that I’ve claimed for myself with the help of a camera. This time, I wanted to bring my paints to capture the essence and true colours - more so than using photographs as subject matter for my paintings. So for the first time, I packed my art supplies with my baggage - how brave of me, I thought.
By Beverly Furer6 years ago in Wander
The Challenge
It had been difficult to imagine, given my own struggles, that the city of Paris was once the geographical axis around which all of world literature had revolved. In some cafés, the locals (usually the café owners themselves) liked to claim that if one sat in the right spots in the Café de Flore or wherever else, they could practically feel the presence of the great writers and, I suppose, absorb the remaining dregs of their artistic residue. I once joked to Amelia, my wife, if the authors of canon themselves had heard the same tired pitches about the mystical properties of old places, that if they spent enough money in some dreary timeworn club they would begin to hear the scratching of Robespierre’s pen and be infected with the revolutionary spirit. No, for throughout the entirety of my Amelia and I’s month-long novelist’s getaway in Paris, no cafés ever managed to do me better than an excellent cup of coffee, though I’ll admit they provided me with those in spades.
By Matthew Mercer6 years ago in Wander
Journey to Haiku
Her father had passed away unexpectedly. He had only just reached his fifth decade of life and was the picture of health. A recently retired military man, he was an avid runner and had participated in many marathons to prove that he had the physicality and endurance to do it. A heart attack they said. Lorelei still couldn't believe it.
By Darian McIntosh6 years ago in Wander
Sweet Chariot
Carlinton Kneedham ran his hand over the smooth surface of the aircraft, illuminated only by a lantern in the barn. Alighting suddenly from its perch, a barn owl painted the ebony canvas of the sky as it flew towards the stars. Carlinton and his brother Valas had been putting the finishing touches on the aircraft to make it ready to fly through the sky the next morning, despite it being obviously heavier than air.
By Skyler Saunders6 years ago in Wander
