“What’s the point? Tomorrow will be the exact same day as yesterday… It’s like… like I’m a gear in a clock I don’t want to be apart of. Where everyone and everything is better off but I’m just drowning. Like how can people go on being that man or love that person when at the end of the day all you are is a robot being kicked down the road?” Wynn scrunched the fabric of his pants in his fist, holding his legs to his chest as the tears rolled down his cheeks one by one. “I just don’t get it.” 

The doctor’s pen clicked methodically, battling with the constant ringing of Wynn’s ears. Each click reminded him that he was failing miserably. He was supposed to be happy. He was supposed to want to live like everyone else. To wake up at five in the morning, get dressed, brush his teeth, eat, drink some coffee, work for four hours, eat lunch, pee, work another four hours, do errands, file legal paper work, pay bills, talk with friends, finish schooling, watch a trending movie, make dinner, eat the dinner, brush his teeth again, and then sleep all for it to repeat over and over again. There was no way out of it and no one else had a problem with that besides him. And just like yesterday- another unattainable weight would be put on his shoulders before returning to his all-white room without a way to end it all. 

“And have the meds helped?” 

Wynn blinked as his thoughts switched course. Meds? He remembered the long orange pill on his platter but whether he took it or not was fuzzy in his mind. It was somewhere in there; he was sure of it. 

“What are they supposed to help me with?” Wynn asked. He lowered his face into his knees when the doctor’s brows slightly lowered in disappointment. Yet another miserable fail. 

The doctor sighed deeply. “They are supposed to cure you. I can see they aren’t. For now, we will take you off of them. We’ll be taking another route. ‘Exposure Therapy’ might be the trick for you. Have you ever heard of Project Relocation?” 

“Um…” Wynn’s mind filled with grey static, the words rolling around in goo. “I don’t think so.” 

“I’ll give you this pamphlet then. Read over it and I’ll be back. We can discuss other options if you don’t think that will work for you.” 

The pamphlet plopped against the white tabletop. He peered over his knees to see a small yellow house in a field with a mountain and rolling clouds behind it. It looked like one of those videos he had to listen to for therapy with the sound of fields rustling in the wind.  

His fingers tingled and he hid back in the safety of his knees, letting his sobs shake his shoulders once he was sure the doctor had left. 

—— 

The last yesterday Wynn had was twelve days ago. The doctor wrote up a note and within the hour, he was on his way to the airport. His advocate led him through the underground tunnel to a boutique of vintage items. She had told him he could pick items he liked that corresponded with his list and then he could leave. 

When he touched the dirt covered boots and patched knit cardigans, he knew yesterday was behind him. He had first picked out his suitcase. A round dust-blue hardtop suitcase. His advocate let him set it on a table so he could pile in his new collection.  

His list consisted of the necessities: a pair of pants, five shirts, five pairs of socks, five pairs of undergarments, one outfit for sleep, a brush, a bar of soap, and five keepsakes of his choosing. That and of course the outfit he was allowed to wear there. He chose mostly sweaters for his shirts and a pair of brown corduroy pants. He found an old pair of striped pajamas with heart shaped buttons. The buttons amused him and so he added it to his suitcase. 

As for the trinkets, he took his time on those. There was a green linen book that looked interesting with faded pictures of drawn plants. A simple guide to gardening. Wynn had always wanted to have a garden. While they were vintage, he enjoyed the thought of seeing butterflies and bees for the first time. His second keepsake was a wooden cookie press. Cookies were a must if he was going to have a new home. His third keepsake was a pocket watch to help him keep track of the time. From what he had been told, there wasn’t technology where he was going to ensure he was fully relocating mentally. His fourth keepsake was a yellow handkerchief with a daffodil embroidered in the corner. If there wasn’t technology, there was no telling if there would be tissues. Then his final keepsake was a brooch of a golden sparrow. While it wasn’t of much use as the other keepsakes, he rather enjoyed the sparrow and the company it somehow provided.  

Once his suitcase was packed, he changed into the outfit he was allowed to wear there. He looked at himself in the old, cracked mirror for the first time in what felt like years. His sandy hair was still freshly cut from earlier that week, matching well with his yellow shirt and the strands of yellow in his dust-blue button down. The overalls were a little big, but after cuffing the ends of his pants, they fit just fine. He quite liked the cuffed overalls after seeing that it showed more of his field boots and their yellow laces.  

The advocate then brought him and his new suitcase to a landing strip with a small plane on it. He had never thought he’d have to fly ever in his life and the plane looked like the bolts would fall right off if the wind blew too hard. Yet he sat down with his advocate and she gave him what he would need once he arrived at the dock. That included a new passport, new ID card, new Trac Band, and a black brassard with a dot in the middle of an upside down pink triangle. He was a little confused by the brassard, but she put it on his arm and reassured him it was only for identification purposes to ensure he wasn’t put in the wrong group. 

After the flight, he was put on the dock and shipped off to where Project Relocation was. He hadn’t even heard of the continent before in his geography classes, but maybe that was to ensure that people in Project Relocation could truly be at peace. 

Now he was on a train with his new suitcase he had named Fea on his way to his new home. The idea of the project was interesting, and he wondered why more people weren’t doing it.  

Project Relocation was just as it sounded. It would transfer people struggling mentally into a new environment in hopes that they would do better if nothing else helped. Wynn hoped it would. After two years in and out of the mental hospital with no other pills to go on, this was really the only thing left. He was a little surprised they let him leave without supervision; especially considering how quickly they got him off his meds. 

Wynn peered through the window at the rolling hills and trees flickering past. He had never been in a train this old before. Locomotives where hardly heard of. It was like he had gone back five hundred years. The rumble of the track under his feet were stimulating, reminding him he was alive every now and then. 

He wondered what his new home would look like. What town he would be in and if the people there were nice. The people back home had never been the nicest. People would mind their own business behind screens and if he dared to interrupt them, he was instantly the demon in their life. To know he wasn’t a burden by just existing was something he longed to experience and he hoped this would be his chance.  

Wynn sat on the edge of his seat as a small town peaked across the horizon. It was the smallest town he had ever seen with only five or so buildings standing alone. He squinted to see what they were made of, but it was hard to tell. He was certain they weren’t made of concrete or metal like he was used to. It was some other material. 

The train’s horn blared as it pulled into the station of the old dusty town. Wynn pressed his nose against the window to see if there were any people, but it seemed the town was more for ghosts than humans.  

Regardless of whether the town was made for ghosts or humans, Wynn grabbed his suitcase, Fea, and his documentation. He stepped onto the brick platform and gazed up a the sign above the arch way running through the train station’s building.  

‘Welcome to Naz’ 

The sign looked faded with chipped paint and crooked letters. He wondered how long it had been since someone had painted the flowers besides the words. His grip tightened on Fea and he exhaled shakily. He wondered if anyone lived here at all. 

The train rolled away behind him and he was left to walk through the archway into this small ghost town. He walked down the creaking wooden steps onto the dirt courtyard and looked at the buildings as tumbleweeds rushed across. None of them were labeled besides the building to his right: Maggy’s Tavern. 

Wynn made his way to the tavern and closed the door quietly behind him. The chairs were on top of the tables and the only light coming in were from the dusty windows. He crept in farther and noticed the thin layer of dust on the tables and chairs. The back wall caught his eye and he got closer. Pictures were framed all along it. Pictures of one building. Then two. Pictures of the small town progressing as more building were built. There was even a picture of the ‘Welcome’ sign to what he assumed this small town was called Naz.  

His eye stopped at a picture frame surrounded in dried flowers. It was a picture with twelve people lined up for a group photo. Most of them looked like nothing he had ever seen before. People with different skin colors and different sizes. People with markings on their skin and crooked teeth. They were all beautiful.  

“Can I help you?” 

Wynn jumped and knocked Fea against his knee. He gritted his teeth to stop himself from yelping. Looking up, he saw an ancient looking women with her frizzed gray hair pulled back in a loose, low ponytail. Even though her eyes told him she was too tired to deal with his shenanigans, his heart still raced out of fear he had done something terribly wrong. 

“I- I um… I was dropped off here. I’m not sure if I’m in the right place, but I have my papers. Do you know who I need to see to… turn in my registration?” 

“You’re in the right place, son. Come on up here and let’s take a look.” The old woman waved him up to the bar and he brought Fea with him. She cleared her throat and patted the top of the bar. “Take a seat.” 

Wynn set Fea on top of the bar and got into one of the high stools. He pushed his papers towards her and she snatched them up. She pulled her glasses onto the tip of her nose with her mouth opened as if that were to help her read. She opened his passport and, with a lick of her finger, she read through his papers. Her eyes didn’t seem surprised at whatever she was looking for. 

The old woman closed his passport and took off her glasses, fixing an unamused gaze upon him. “What’s your real name?” 

“Wynniver Ovre?” 

“Are you telling me or asking me if you name is Wynniver Ovre?” 

“I’m not sure. Is that not what it says on my passport?” 

“Oh, sonny.” The old woman sighed and plopped a glass on top the bar. She drizzled a honey-ed looking liquid into it and took a long sip. “Let me guess, you chose this over death row or whatever they sentenced you with.” 

“What? No- I… I’m here for Project Relocation? I was sent here since nothing else was working.” 

The old woman peered at his brassard and her eyes immediately relaxed with a soft sadness. “I see.” She cleared her throat and tossed his papers into a drawer behind the bar. Before he could say anything or react, she had a knife against his wrist and cut off his Trac Band. She tossed that behind the bar too. 

“Ma’am-” 

“The name’s Mags. I’ll tell you want you need to know but it may not be what you want to know. Got that, son?” 

“I think so?” 

Mags sighed, “Boy do you got some work to do.” 

“I do?” 

“Yes.” Mags swigged the last of her drink and plopped her glass behind the bar. “I’ll be straight with you, there is a lot that you’ll need to learn about this place, but given your streak, I’m gonna save that for another time. Come with me. I’ll show you around.” 

Wynn grabbed Fea and followed Mags down from the bar to the front of her Tavern. 

“This is my place. No one comes around much these days. Maybe once a month for a meeting or two but eh- there ain’t much that goes on ‘round here anyway.” Mags waved him to follow her outside and she walked him around to the different buildings. “I’ve made shop in my ol’ tavern. I ain’t live on my acreage anymore. That grey or green looking building, whatever color you wanna call it, that’s our little five n’ dime. I also run that place from time to time. The man who used to run it died a while back.” 

“What’s the building next to your tavern?” 

Mags looked over her shoulder to the building Wynn mentioned. It was a little window shop with nothing inside and flowers lined up on the steps.  

“That shops been closed.” Mags turned and continued walking down the dirt road. “That building down there is a shop run by Gundi. He’ll fix anything you got. And above his shop are a couple of bedrooms in case you need to spend the night here. Trust me, you’ll need it especially. A little bit farther down the rode is Tad N’ Bits shop for all your fishing supplies if you like that kind of stuff. Or you could go a little farther to Fin’s place. He’ll have all the fish you need, but don’t go without someone else. Now there at Gundi’s place? That street splits into a ‘y’. Go down the right side and it will bring you to Henny’s farm. If you ever decide to get some livestock, she’s your gal. Understand me so far?” 

Wynn nodded.  

“Right.” Mags let her gaze linger on him for a little longer, the sadness still evident. “Let me grab my horse. I’ll take you to your place.” 

“Horse?” 

“Yeah, I said horse. You need something to clean your ears with?” 

“No, I just… I don’t know what that is.” 

Mags stopped in her tracks to give him one good look. “You’re telling me you don’t know what a horse is?” 

“No?” 

Mags sighed under her breath and waved for him to follow. “Let me show you then. You’ll need to get used to it with where you’re at.” 

“Is my place that far away?” 

“Couple miles yeah. Could walk back here by foot but, that would be a lot of energy spent on walkin’.” 

Wynn followed Mags to the back of her tavern were a small roof rested on four posted. His jaw stood agape at the sight of what he assumed had to be the horse. It’s coat was a reddish-brown and it’s mane and tale were pitch black. The horse was beautiful. 

“This here is my girl, Wendy. She’s been good to me for the last five years. I won’t show you now, but this saddle will be how you use her for transport. Set your case down and I’ll help you on her.” 

Wynn did as he was told and let Mags help him onto the saddle. It felt odd to straddle a moving beast with its own mind, but he guessed there really wasn’t any other way to get around without technology. 

Mags latched his suitcase onto one of the bags harnessed to the back of Wendy before getting on behind him. She grabbed a hold of Wendy’s rein and, with a couple knicks, she urged Wendy out of her enclosure. Instead of heading towards Gundi’s building, she headed the other direction onto a long road with nothing on it.  

“Mags? Can I ask you a bit about your experience?” 

“Wasn’t that a question, son?” 

“Maybe?” 

Mags sighed. “Go on ‘n shoot.” 

“How long have you been in the Relocation Project?” 

“There ain’t no such thing. But I guess you could say forty-six years.” 

“What do you mean, ‘no such thing’?” Wyn asked.  

“It means there anin’t no such thing. I’m sure they spilled all that bullshit out and made it look like a nice dinner feast but this ain’t that place.” 

“But they-“ 

“I know what they said, son. But the thing is, you don’t need to worry about that right now.” Mags cleared her throat and shot a spit-wad into the field beside them. “I think it fair I ask my question now. What are you wantin’ to get out of this place anyway?” 

“I… I guess I just want to be better again. I dunno. I was hoping to be normal, I guess. Want to live. That sort of thing?” 

“I get it. Nine-to-Five wasn’t my things either.” 

“It wasn’t?” 

“Hell no! You tellin’ me I could work for the rest of my life at some stick office job or stay here? I choose here. At least I can enjoy my coffee and drink before five whenever I want.” 

“So… it worked for you?” 

“Eh. I’m living. What else matters?” 

Wynn guessed he’d have to wait a bit to understand what Mags meant. He had never wanted to live before and maybe that’s what made it hard to think of what else mattered. Not much mattered to him at all. Maybe that was something he could figure out while he was here. 

They strutted up to a small log cabin with a dirty, green metal roof. The grass was overgrown and the windows of the home looked too old to be inhabitable. Yet Mags helped him down and after she leashed Wendy to a nearby tree, she lead him to the front of the house.  

“This is where you’ll be living from now on. I already gave it a good look around last week. Got a letter stating someone was gonna be here.” Mags swung open the door and held out her arm for Wynn to go on ahead. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to see how you’re doing. Just stay here and don’t stray off from the road. Stay low for a couple of nights and don’t talk to anyone just yet. I’ll make sure they know you’re one of us now.” 

“Who’s they?” Wynn asked. 

“Your neighbors. Newcomers aren’t normal ‘round here. They could all think your someone else and shoot you on accident. Just stay low until I say so. Looks like you’ll need to anyway with the state of this things. Anyway. I best be goin’. See you tomorrow- what was your name again?” 

“Wynn.” 

“Wynn. I’ll pop by tomorrow.” Mags closed the door behind her and left him alone in the dark dusty place that was now his new home. He held onto Fea and looked around. He stood in what he assumed was the living room. The kitchen was behind him with french double doors leading to the woods behind the house. Then there was the bedroom beneath the loft.  

Wynn sat Fea down beside the chest at the end of the bed. He wasn’t sure how he liked the bed right in front of the door, but he guessed he could change that later if he wanted to.  

The sun was slowly setting over the horizon and Wynn was tired enough from his travels. He didn’t feel like unpacking yet, so he curled up onto of his bed and closed his eyes. His thoughts ran back and forth, wondering what this new life would bring him. But eventually, he fell asleep in the darkness of his new home.