White Wasteland Prince

It's Wednesday, the 25th. One month has passed since Christmas and exactly 25 days since the new year has started. Some say it is the final year, the year when the human species will disappear from the surface of Earth. I can not agree, but who am I to think that this world wide paranoia doesn't have grounds to it. But this is besides the point. This is not my worst fear.

After I wake up, in a rather good mood for some reason, I procrastinate for a while under my sheets, thinking of nonsense and emptiness. I finally get out of my comfy bed and look out the window. Everything is covered in white, to the point that I cannot believe my eyes. Could this really be reality? Has this city, this controversial metropolis, moved to Siberia somehow? The answer to that question is: Yes.

After 2 months of winter have passed, with maybe 2 flakes of snow falling, it finally happened. In one night, the whole city was covered with 50 centimeters of snow, becoming a clear deep white.
I loved it. Snow somehow makes me feel like home, although I don't know why. Maybe it reminds me of my childhood. Maybe I was born in the North Pole and a pack of wolves brought me far, to this European wasteland. But that doesn't matter. It is not the issue here.

What I forgot to mention is that I don't belong in this metropolis, I am but a mere visitor who came here to try and advance in life, without even knowing what that really means. No, I live some tens of kilometers further from here. And that was the issue in that day. I needed to get home, but I couldn't.
The road that leads to my original nest was closed. The snow covered the road in one night, and not even trains could travel safely. So I was stuck in the metropolis, somewhat being a stranger here, an outsider. At least I have shelter, I said to myself, while desperately thinking of ways to feed myself for one more day without having anymore gold, the local currency. Then, suddenly I got an offer I couldn't refuse, due to the physical emptiness that filled me from the inside. I was offered food for a day. So I stayed, surviving in the new formed wasteland for one more day, until I could go to my home, to safety.

It's now Thursday., the 26th. It is time to go home, I heard they made it possible to go on the road, the road to my home. I proceeded to packing my bags and my earthling belongings, and said Good Bye to the metropolis that sheltered me through tough times.
I am now on the road, the road that usually takes 1 hour to roam. As the bus moves along, I am afraid it would take me 14 hours to get home, as it happened to some unfortunate travelers one day prior, when it all started. The poor things.

We are just leaving the metropolis, for real this time, when I see a truck that seemed like it was a toy, thrown by the boy playing with it. It was almost upside-down, in the snow, at the exit of a forest. A few kilometers South, I spotted another truck, with a similar faith. This was serious, I said to myself. It was then that I realized the true power of the blizzard that passed through here. The power that I couldn't feel from my comfy shelter.

People on the bus are talking, they are all scared, whispering words of some accentuated terror, saying that some people died in this area last night. One of them was 20 years old. His car was covered by this white matter we call snow and he died due to asphyxiation. I started to feel something, it was the thought of me going through the same treatment, a thought that appeared when I realized that not long ago I was also 20 years old.

It passed, music in my ears calming me down, making me docile. I look out the window again. I see a long convoy of trucks, some were even road trains. These were the ones that transported food and merchandise from one country to another. The trucks were all dead, or in a state of deep coma if you will.

They were all stopped on the side of the road. I started counting them to pass the time. There were one, two, three, four, five, ..., eighty trucks stopped on the side of the road. They were waiting there, making a cord of about 5-10 kilometers long, in this wasteland that was the road to my home, without food or hot drinks. They were there since last night, waiting for the international road to be cleared, so they can go deliver their cargo, to store owners and people. Poor drivers.

I am almost home. About an hour has passed. A lot shorter than I feared. Our bus suddenly stops, nobody understands what is happening. Then I see. The road that should have led the trucks to their destination was cleared. The blue eyes wearing green retro-reflective vests were guiding us. The trucks started appearing one by one, making us wait for them to pass. I should have been angry, but why? I was not the one who waited for almost 20 hours in my car with no food and hot drinks. I did not have a right to be angry at the truck drivers. After let's say 10 minutes we were granted access to pass and see of our journey home.
It's starting to be dark outside. But I am almost home, I am calm.

I see the entrance to my small city. It only took 1 hour and a half to get home.
I have beat the white prince.
I am now safe.