humanity
If nothing else, travel opens your eyes to the colorful quilt that is humankind.
Mara & Thomas
This record of events was retrieved from a series of journals by a woman named, Mara. They were found buried near the tombstone of her companion, Gallagher, a black dog, a proper dog, a witch’s companion. Near his bones the record of her trial and error, of trial and success. Mara stretched her psychic rubber band to the edge of chaos, but it never snapped. A lot of paths were wound down, a lifetime of strange dreams. Mara did not need to hold out hope for hindsight, she was aware of it all in exactly the moments it transpired. She is the one who followed her path into graveyards and over roof tops, in silence and dreams, in large crowds of strangers. Somehow both a recollection of events and a recognition of characters.
By Erica Pedro3 years ago in Wander
A Pink, Winter Coat Shell
Emotional and moody: Cancers tend to get their feelings hurt very easily and it is hard for them to get over it; they can be sharp and hold grudges. These people are generally very nurturing, motherly people with a great attachment to the home and family. They are seemingly just like a crab; guarded by a hard armor shell, that protects a soft and emotional inside. This shell is usually quite difficult to penetrate, but once you do, you become a part of the crab’s soft inside and are therefore treasured and guarded forever. A cardinal water sign, these people seem to be directly tied to the oceans, but they prefer basking on the hot sand to swimming in the seas. The pearl is their birthstone, their ruling planet is the Moon. The waxing and waning of the moon and the rise and fall of the ocean tides are as tumultuous and fickle as the mood of the Crab. They are deep and intuitive, often psychic or possessing a Sixth Sense. They are those who follow their heart instead their head.
By Dana Murphy3 years ago 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 Whitney3 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 Caruana3 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 Biangco3 years ago in Wander
No Time Left
Ruby I walked the beach as the wind raged around me, needing this moment. I hadn’t been home to Oregon in a few years, and coming back for Seth’s funeral was almost impossible to believe. My blonde hair wrapped around my throat as I reached for it, hearing a voice above the wind. I turned to see Layla walking towards me, wrapped in a jacket with a red hat pulled over her green hair.
By Jennwrites3 years ago in Wander
La Última Pintura
The afternoon sunlight hits the sea just right. A flock of seagulls soar effortlessly through the warm, salty air. Grace enjoys painting just as her mother did before recently passing away. The gleaming sea and its soft, undulating waves serve as an inspiring backdrop for Grace as she begins to paint a portrait of her mother on this very beach in Manzanillo, Colombia.
By Jessica Wherry3 years ago in Wander
The Black Experience
Milan, Italy October 27, 1997 To my granddaughter, There is richness in our history. This I want you to know. Do not let anyone look down on your or make you feel less because of your skin color. You are beautiful. You are intelligent. Your skin radiates with brilliance, and from your mind flows excellence.
By Margaree Jackson3 years ago in Wander