Wanderlust by Latifah & Raghad

Posted on March 13, 2013 by


Good morning, on behalf of X airlines the sky team would like to welcome you on board. We will be departing in 15 minutes and we’ll arrive by 8:35 A.M. local time of destination. We hope you enjoy the flight, and thank you.


My fingers reached for the two ends of the seatbelt absent-mindedly and connected them. The seatbelt’s pressure on my abdomen giving me a sense of home. I can feel the excited smile creeping up my face; I probably look like an idiot but that’s fine. What shall I do first when I get there? Go to the garden or visit the museum? I should write all this down. I start scribbling down a list:

“1- Visit the Vasa Museum.

2- Go to the Rosendal’s Garden.

3- Buy tickets for the Opera.

4- Look for the Cathedral and visit it.”

I write a few more stuff to do then let go of the pen and hold back a yawn.  ‘ Is this what you really want to do with your life? To keep running away?’ My mother’s voice screams in my head. ‘Why are you doing this? Are you running away from something?’ My best-friend’s repetitive questioning goes through my head. They don’t know why I’m really doing this. They shouldn’t know the whys and wherefores of what I’m doing.  They’re right though, I am running away. I’m trying to run away from this world that has robbed me of being certain. This world that is making me doubt every thing in it. I had the chance to take my own life, but I didn’t. Looking back now, I regret not doing it. All I can think about is, did I turn off the curling iron or not?




2:27 AM, Over The Atlantic Ocean.




You called me whimsical and I ran away. I set fire to both of your palms and headed up north, God knows how many times I tried to apologize for my reckless heart and self-drawn halos, but I’m not sorry. You know how the sky is like back home, love, don’t you? It left no room for me to grow. 

You made me happy, always remember that, but somewhere along the way my roots have been unearthed and I don’t know how to wrap them around you. I know your palms itch to bury that fire in my spine, and I’ve never given you the chance. For that, I apologize. 


I’ll be sending you pictures of Stockholm. 





At 3:54 flight number FR24 LH1353 from RUH to STO crashed into the ocean. 

Most of the passengers were sound asleep. 

There were no survivors. 

The sky was bleeding.


(Parts in regular font are by Latifah

Parts in italics are by Raghad.)

Posted in: Wanderlust