literature
Travel literature includes guide books, travel memoirs and the curious experiences that happen when you seek adventure.
The Little Black Book
The smooth, round stones sunk slightly as the water washed over the shore. Anna watched mesmerized as the waves plucked pebbles from the embankment and set them upon their unwilling journey. Would they find themselves upon the shores of a distant land or would they be destined to toss endlessly in the turbulent ocean without ever reaching a destination? Anna stood up, waited patiently for the next tide to swallow her calves, and then gently placed the airtight box of photographs along with the Little Black Book into the waiting arms of the Mediterranean. She secretly hoped that the ocean would carry her painful memories far, far away --- and the sea obliged.
By Charlene Flick6 years ago in Wander
A Strange Discovery
I have often enjoyed my solitary walks through nature. Mornings such as today were such that could only be described with the word ‘fine’. Not ‘beautiful’, not ‘perfect’, such words seemed overly magical and perhaps unreal for my liking. The sun was shining brightly, with little wisps of white among blue skies. That, too, was ideal. I had always found entirely blue skies oppressive in their intensity. The temperature was the perfect balance of warmth, just slightly too warm but with a light breeze to balance out the surplus. The shadows of the trees provided momentary comfort, with the small distance between them arousing a faint longing for their shelter which was momentarily satisfied upon reaching the next.
By Dmitri Yendrzheyevskiy6 years ago in Wander
Black Book
“Hey Kiddo.” “Yeah,” replies Mason, sitting at the kitchen table, scribbling with a green crayon on a dinosaur printout. “I think it’s time to head out, grab your shoes, Ok? Meet me in the van.” Looking in the mirror, Elizabeth combs her hair once more. Her long black curls bounce a little as she pulls the brush through. The frizz she thinks will just have to do. It’s always a touch humid here in North Carolina. She glances at her brown skin and eyes and smiles.
By Shalasha Deese6 years ago in Wander
The Book Yet to be Written
"Well, that doesn't seem like a coincidence," James Marie Scott said to herself as flames overtook the small dilapidated cottage standing before her. The heat from the blaze warmed her cheeks as she ran a hand over the shaved side of her head, flipping her shoulder-length wavy locks to the other side of her face.
By Melissa McGill 6 years ago in Wander
Borne on the Bayou
Borne on the Bayou By: Michael Cole In all, Marcus had to admit to himself that things could be worse. In fact, he’d seen worse, experienced worse and certainly lived through worse. Growing up in the murky, hazard filled bayous of Plaquemines Parrish in Louisiana’s most southern reaches into the Gulf of Mexico, Marcus had lived through hurricanes, flooding, battles with prehistoric swamp dwelling creatures and a host of hazards too numerous to mention. But Marcus was not at all put off by his upbringing. No, he appreciated all that he and his French-Creole small family of five had endured and triumphed over.
By Michael Cole6 years ago in Wander
The Great Reopening
The north-facing windows in her south bank apartment face London City Airport. This was both a blessing and a curse, affording her magnificent river views and an exquisite sunset over Canary Wharf (so long as she craned her neck a little to the left), as well as the regular windy roars of arriving and departing planes. She is sitting upright in the wide sill, drinking in the view, as well as an unreasonably large gin. Her phone pings. The Monzo “ka-ching!”. She looks down.
By Mike Dalley6 years ago in Wander
The lucky card
It was a Saturday afternoon. Birds were chirping and bees were humming. Mia and Tibi (don’t bother why his parents named him that way) were playing a game of Super Intergalactic Stellar Racing with their bikes. Mia pretended to be the ace pilot of the Nima Squad, Dan McCloud. As for Tibi, he was Ark’kor, tyrant of the Gemma system. Watching hours of Star Wars must have had an influence on them
By Alexandre Chauvette6 years ago in Wander
Voyage of the Myrina
Her hair was sun bleached and her skin was golden. All she could hear was the sound of the gentle waves from the bay washing shells and sea glass onto the white sand. Kai had spent the first two months since she moved to the Shore lying on the beach healing her soul from the unfulfilled life she had been living back home.
By Laura Smith6 years ago in Wander
