January 1st, 2021. My eyes were glued to the myriad volume of raindrops feverishly running down the windshield while situated in our parked vehicle, like tears rolling down a child’s pudgy cheeks from the stingingly poignant scent of raw onions being chopped up. We stepped outside the vehicle, stood upright, and looked both ways. Utter and complete desolation, reminiscent of a ghost town. Not a single soul drifted across my cramped vision. I thought to myself, what an astounding moment in time this is.

Blink. I found myself sandwiched in the center of bustling oncoming traffic, facing east towards a Petro Canada gas station as my quivering lower extremities aimlessly fought to uphold the entirety of my 170-pound frame. The perpetual supremacy put on display by frigid blasts of arctic air, splattering across my facial skin like invisible paint, transformed my face from a blank white canvas into a valentine-esque combination of flushing and flirtatious pink and red.