There are a few dark and haunted pieces of land in this province. I've been to three of them. Edson, pretty much the entire town, has a dark undercurrent, a flow that will sooner or later erode at you, tear down every bit of light in anyone. It's where I grew up, where I came to understand darkness, where I'd seen what people can become. I try not to go there anymore, because of this, and because of the history I have there. People tend to give me that look ("Oh, Trent's on another rant") when I flatly refuse, or when I speed through the place to get out, but I honestly feel that there is nothing good to be gained from staying there for any length of time.
I went to Edson on saturday, with Diane and my mom. I'd decided maybe it was time to give the place a try, to see if anything had changed for me. I felt good that morning, having visited a special tree at the farm, one which I'm possitive my sister has been to recently. I felt strong enough to gird myself against whatever it was that might assualt me in town. Turns out I was.
It was a short trip, but one I won't need to repeat for another few years. The place was oddly deserted for a saturday afternoon. I commented on the lack of people, which got me shrugs from the other two, but apart from the solitary shopkeepers, and two women sitting on a bench, there was not a person to be seen.
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