Travel

December 12, 2017

France, Italy, England, Japan, Australia… the list continued. Ten year old Gracie Harewood rocked back and forth on a small, squeaky swing which hung in her backyard. Her bare feet dragged across the grass, dirt and mud covering the soles of her feet. Germany, Scotland, Africa… She scribbled down quickly. The air was warm but was accompanied by a cool breeze, making today the perfect day to develop her list. After a good 20 minutes, Gracie held her notebook paper up into the sun and admired her chicken scratch handwriting. She had officially made a list of every place she planned on traveling to. Some of the destinations, she knew little other than mere name of the place but was intrigued nonetheless. Gracie hopped off her swing after deciding she was one hundred percent satisfied with her work, and scrambled to the screen door at the back of her house.


“OH MOMMMM” The girl hollered, her voice ringing all throughout the house.
“Yes sweetheart?” Answered Mrs. Harewood, exasperated.
“I’ve finished!” Declared Gracie, stepping into the house.
“Finished what exactly? Oh and darling what did I tell you about how you must wear shoes outside!” Her mom cried out.


Gracie ignored her mother’s shoe comment and trotted over to the couch, her two long brown braids bouncing up and down as she did so. “My bucket list, mother” Spat the young girl. “Of all the places I will go before i kick the bucket” She added dramatically, flopping down on the sofa with a large unneeded sigh. Leaning over the edge of the couch, she reached beneath it and pulled out a large scrapbook, stuffed to the rim with exotic pictures from exotic places. The majority of the photographs weren’t even from some of the places that made the list, but Gracie didn’t care. She flipped through the book, page by page yapping at her mother here and there for one thing or another. When Gracie came across the last blank page in her book, she sprinted over to her family’s art cabinet and grabbed a glue stick, smearing it all over the back of the notebook paper. Gracie then smashed the paper down into the book, before stepping back and admiring her fine work. Gracie soon slid the book back under the couch and proceeded to persist her poor mother to make cookies. As gracie grew older, her drive to reach these places faded. By the time she started middle school, Gracie had completely forgotten about her list, and scrapbook overall. Her drive for adventure was lost in all of the eagerness to be well liked. She graduated high school, edging the line of being held back and simply refused to go to college. The passive passion she has once felt towards her dream had dreadfully deteriorated, disintegrating into nothingness. Grace Harewood was 45 now, and was gifted her parents old couch as a moving-out present. As the couch was pulled and dragged across the carpet, her old treasure came into view. She picked the book up slowly and shook off any dust bunnies that covered it. Frowning down at the old thing, Grace flipped to the last page and took in her once childhood dream. Ever getting to these places would be highly unlikely now… she thought…With a heave Grace walked over to the trash can and disposed of the book. She didn’t think twice as she walked away.






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