The wind is always like this in Saskatchewan—cold, biting, relentless. It slices through the air, making every step feel like it's a struggle just to keep moving forward. I pull my hoodie tighter around my neck, but it doesn't help. Nothing ever helps. The chill gets into your bones, under your skin, until it's all you can feel.
I look around. The streets are empty. The town is empty. It's always empty. The same gray buildings, the same broken fences, the same snow, day after day. Nothing ever changes here. It's like the place is stuck, frozen in time. Like everyone who's supposed to be here just… left.
I shove my hands deeper into my pockets and continue walking. The snow crunches under my boots with every step, the only sound in the world. It's the kind of quiet that's suffocating. The kind that makes you feel like you're the last person left alive. The last one who's still holding on.
What's the point of all this? I wonder, but it's a question I've asked so many times that it's lost its meaning. There's no answer. There never is.
I pass by the same old houses, their windows dark and lifeless. I'm sure some of them are still occupied, but it doesn't feel that way. The silence here is thick, like a blanket that smothers everything. I don't think anyone even notices when I walk by. They never did.
I stop for a second in front of a house that used to be nice. It's falling apart now, the paint chipped, the garden overgrown. I used to see kids playing here, laughing, running around. But now, it's just a hollow shell.
I wonder if that's how I look, I think to myself. Just a shell. Empty.
I shake my head and keep walking. The air feels heavier now, thicker with all the thoughts I try to push away. But I can't. They're always there. The loneliness. The emptiness. The endless feeling that nothing matters.
I pass by the old grain elevators on the outskirts of town. They've been here forever. Rusted and forgotten, like so many things in this town. They've stood here longer than anyone cares to remember, and they'll probably be here long after everyone's gone. They're the only thing in this place that doesn't seem to care about the passage of time. But even they're starting to fall apart now.
I sit down on a bench near the elevators, staring out over the empty fields. The wind picks up, and I feel it cutting through my clothes, numbing my skin. But it's not the cold I'm thinking about. It's the way this place feels. It's like I'm surrounded by ghosts. Ghosts of things that used to be alive. Ghosts of people who used to care.
Am I a ghost too? I wonder. Am I already gone, just walking around pretending I'm still here?
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to block out the thoughts. I don't want to think about this anymore. But they keep coming back. The feeling of being invisible. The feeling that, no matter how much I try, I'll never fit in here. I'll never be a part of anything.
I let out a long breath, watching the steam swirl and vanish into the cold air. It's quiet again, just the wind and the silence. And yet, there's this nagging feeling in the back of my mind. Something's missing. Something's off, but I can't put my finger on it.
Maybe it's just me, I think. Maybe I'm the one who's broken.
The thought lingers, but I push it away. I don't want to think about that. I don't want to think about how I've been stuck here for years, how everything around me is slowly falling apart. I don't want to think about how it feels like the world is moving on without me, like I'm just… left behind.
I stand up, shivering against the cold, and start walking back toward town. The path seems longer now, as if I'm walking through a dream. Or maybe it's a nightmare. I can't decide. The snow crunches beneath my boots, but it sounds muffled, like it's too far away. The silence presses in, wrapping around me like a vice.
I glance up at the sky. It's still the same gray, overcast sky, the kind that makes you feel like the sun hasn't risen in days. I wonder if it'll ever stop being like this. If the world will ever wake up.
But then I catch a glimpse of something. A flicker. Just a tiny flicker of light, almost like something is shifting in the sky. But it's gone before I can really see it.
Did I imagine that?
I stop and look around, my heart suddenly racing. The wind howls through the streets, louder than before, but everything looks the same. The same empty houses, the same frozen landscape. The same silence.
Maybe I'm just losing it, I tell myself. Maybe it's nothing.
But the feeling doesn't go away. I keep walking, trying to shake it off. But it lingers, just out of reach. The sense that something is wrong. Something's not right.
Is it me? I think. Am I the one who's wrong?
I don't know the answer. I don't even know what the question really is. But as I keep walking, I can't shake the feeling that something is waiting for me. Something that I don't understand yet.
And I don't know if I'm ready for it.