I visited a ghost town during COVID-19

I stared at the majestic animal from across the university. Our eyes locked, and we understood each other’s struggle. Samuel Stupid

Being trapped inside for the last year hasn’t been all that bad. I’m not a big fan of human interaction so when it was time to put up the walls, I was relieved. I love being alone.

From picking up new hobbies, listening to way too much ASMR, starting a TikTok for my small business and dabbling in the dark arts, lockdown has been great. There’s no one I would rather spend my life with than me.

But recently, I’ve realized that I may have Hobbit-holed™ myself into not knowing how to communicate with humans anymore. I can still talk to ghosts though, which is pretty sick because my mom’s basement gets a bit scary sometimes.

So I grabbed my keys, kissed my rabbit’s foot keychain and decided that I would go on a short trip to a small town called UBC. UBC had been a ghost town for some time now. Buildings were covered in vines, the lawn was unkempt and there was a yellow tinge to the sky. Almost post-apocalyptic.

I’ve always been fascinated with the lore of UBC. Ancient stories talk about a three-legged dog named Kip who would befriend lonely travellers. Some say that Kip is looking for a companion — others, their fourth leg.

When I arrived I was greeted by a picture of Thunderbird. The bird was weirdly jacked. I got literal chills. Like, what? Who is that bird and when will he steal my girl?

I continued down into the town and passed this place called Main Mall. There was no Fritzia. What kind of mall doesn’t have a Fritzia?

My stomach rumbled, and well, what’s a travel blog post without a little local delicacy review? I walked into the only place with lights on: Jim Mortons. Once up at the counter, I am greeted by a short woman. I order a small mocha Iced Capp because I know if I get a medium, it’ll run right through me.

Jim Mortons Lady (JML) offered to show me around. I agreed. She tells me that she’s the only person who lives here. Weird. What kind of person lives in a ghost town?

We left and walked toward the Derrick Rose Garden.

She told me about the old-timey Almonds Matter Society, and how they were all birds in people costumes. No wonder their building was called the Nest.

The entire time I was roaming this town with JML, I felt a presence following me. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but then I saw them. Kip.

Kip is beauty and grace, elegance and taste.

I turned to JML and yelled, “Why aren’t you freaking out? It the Kip!”

I stared at the majestic animal from across the university. Our eyes locked, and we understood each other’s struggle. Sure, I’m an upper-middle-class university graduate who lives in my mommy’s basement and Kip is an injured coyote who roams UBC alone, but they knew. They knew how hard it had been for my artisanal skateboard shop to take off.

A single tear rolled down my face. The wind is warm. And Kip started walking toward me and JML. Kip started running, and so did I, and we embraced each other.

Pure bliss.

I turned and JML was crying too. She came to hug Kip and me, and suddenly, I opened my eyes. I was back in my bedroom.

No. No. No. I had so many questions! I wanted to learn. I couldn’t believe this. I have to go back. I grabbed my keys and saw that in place of my lucky rabbit foot, there was a lucky coyote’s foot.

I looked up to the sky, kissing the paw.

Thank you, Kip. ☺

This article is part of The Ubyssey’s 2021 spoof issue, NICE Magazine.