Something Missing

I had a chilling realization today: I don’t hear people laughing outside anymore. It isn’t that the streets are silent—there’s still the sound of engines and the occasional shout or argument—but the sound of genuine, carefree laughter has vanished. Maybe it’s just me noticing it now because I’m looking for it, but once you notice the absence, it’s incredibly loud. It feels like the joy has been leached out of the soil. People move with a grim, focused purpose, their eyes on the ground or the horizon, never on each other. Stockport has become a town of strangers who share a secret they are too afraid to name.