A WALK DOWN MEMORY LANE

It was hot. As obscenely hot as I remember it being. I walked out of my res wearing jeans, a hoodie and closed shoes, walked right into a wall of solid air and heat and immediately turned around to discard any excess clothing. Feeling remarkably cooler, I set out to relive my first few hours on campus. I was walking alone, at least not in any way that makes sense. Walking next to me was me from first year. I chuckled as I took all of him in, and there was a lot of him. His glasses were thicker, his hair was an unruly jet-black afro and he walked with a slouch, as if he carried the world on his shoulders. He constantly looked down; too weary to lift his head to take in what was around him. It was comforting to see that I could look over his head now. Smoothing my close-cut hair so that the wind would not bother it so, we walked out.

We walked down the pathway by Stanley Kidd and past the dining hall. In my eyes, it was empty despite it being lunch time. The chairs were stacked on top of the tables, there were at least three sanitizing stations scattered around and there were stern warnings posted on the doors about what would happen if you were to not wear your mask. The dining hall that Past Shay saw was completely different. Inside, it was full to capacity and so loud you seemed to be wading in sound waves when walking to the bathroom. Six or seven people crammed next to each other at a single table, the phrase “social distancing” meaning absolutely nothing, all shouting to be heard. It was completely deafening. I shuddered at the thought of that many people in such an enclosed space. Past Shay shook his head too, though mostly at the noise than at anything else.

Leaving the deafeningly silent place behind us, we walked down Prince Alfred Street and decided to cross the road and head to the library, walking past Milner House in the process; at least Past Shay decided, I just followed him. Past Shay looked up and saw a tidal wave of students coming towards him, eager to get back to res or eager to grab something that was only edible by definition and not by taste at the dining hall or just eager to get away from the lecture halls behind them. Cars waited impatiently as hordes of students crossed the road without bothering to check who was coming past, chatting animatedly to each other about what their plans for the weekend were. All their talk was lost in my ears, a bitter murmur from a time long ago. My street was empty. Hauntingly empty. There was not a sound to be heard that was not the gentle wind or the rustling of the leaves. I felt like I was the only one around to hear them. All the way to the library we walked, our two realities converging closer and closer until, finally, they were superimposed on each other. Ghosts walked down the steps from the library in front of me, red-eyed and shaking their heads, clearing away the sleep from their eyes. They sat next to each other on benches, with books or with laptops in front of them or simply one just resting on the others’ lap. They faded as they left my one-by-one until finally it was just me, in dead silence in a ghost town that I once thought could never be this empty.