Heads up—this game is on sale! You can buy this game for $1.94 on Steam until March 20.

The Stillness of the Wind is a small indie game from Lambic Studios that first came out in 2019. It's lived rent-free in my head ever since my first run due to its meditative and overall sad narrative about aging and loss, which might come as a surprise due to its cozy trappings. Stillness is usually described as a farming simulator, which I think is correct in the same way that calling a tiger cub "a cat" is correct: it's not wrong, but it does misrepresent the situation somewhat. Technically, yes, Stillness includes daily chores like growing produce and tending to livestock. Strictly speaking, the game's story is entirely optional—but to ignore it to focus on the core gameplay loop strikes me as short-sighted. With a small-but-satisfying 5 hour runtime, you'll have plenty of room to make a routine for all your chores, and sure, you can spend the whole time watering plants. But you'll risk being confused, maybe even put off, by the tonal shift of the seasons once they strike. Despite the game's calm and quiet atmosphere, this is not a game I would recommend you try to unwind with.

Content warnings

Narrative hardware

Setting

The protagonist of Stillness is Talma Yuma, an old woman living alone on a desert farm. Also on the farm are two goats, six chickens, some wild birds, and a pocket full of seeds. Beyond the critters, Talma's only source of conversation is Laszlo, the letter-carrier who stops by occasionally with letters from Talma's family. The opening titles swiftly lay out her past: a life spent on this farm, through a time when she shared this space with eight other people. While we're not sure how long Talma's been on her own, it's clear that she's capable of managing the place solo just fine.

The game takes place in a constructed, fantasy-sounding world whose elegant trappings do not reach the farm. Talma's sister Eimi frequently sends hedonistic tales of excess, regaling her with stories of the latest fashions and most decadent foods (click to read one such letter). Her brother Garza runs a news press and backburners his beef with a local politician to wax poetic about age and mortality. Talma's estranged daughter Sola returns to the country after a prolonged absence, making plans to finally visit the farm and possibly mend things with Talma.

But Talma's world consists only of the farm. Due to her age, she doesn't walk very fast. Moreover, her chores keep her busy. Who will water the plants if she leaves the farm? Or care for the goats and chickens? Her life is deeply rooted in this place, as we'll come to understand.

The first ten

Talma's view of the world is firmly focused on her immediate surroundings. Telephone poles stretching into the distance are sinking into the sand, and she's unable to actually reach anyone on the phone. She has one book on her shelf and can optionally acquire a couple more over the game's runtime. She can read the letters sent by her family. Or she can just live her quiet life, tending to her farm and minding her own business. The gameplay loop is repetitive in a way I found calming. The backing music makes brilliant use of nostalgic piano to set the scene and mood of Talma's life: quiet, slow, and uncomplicated.

Where's the line between "uncomplicated" and "boring," you might ask, and rightly so. Everyone's got a different tolerance for this. I found the slow speed sometimes tedious, but always intentional. This is very much a piece of media about aging, so it made sense to me that Talma can't (and/or won't) rush through her days.

Talma's days are quiet. Her life is quiet. Her farm is more or less quiet, less the bleating of goats and chirping of birds. It's the gentle music of her quiet existence. Quiet. Slow. Uncomplicated.

The first hour

Then, the dreams begin.

Talma's first Weird Dream is presented in a desaturated, sepia-toned cutscene. Her farmhouse, her yard, everything as we expect—but it's the big black goat that draws the eye. It's our first indication that maybe this isn't just a Stardew-like, as nothing else has occurred that would hint at anything sinister or unsettling. But there's no reason to panic, and no time, since there are goats to milk and plants to be watered, and Talma can only walk so fast these days.

The next morning, a huge black bird is chilling on her fence. Nothing happens, but it's... there. Ominous. Watching. From then on, Talma can then find little figurines in the desert outside the farm. My first one practically jumpscared me on the way to the well.

What's up with these? The figurines give off an ambient noise of children playing and shouting as Talma draws closer to pick them up. By my count, there are seven in total, which Talma can collect and display on the shelf outside her cheese-making shed.

The toys appear to be modeled after creatures and people from the game, including one of Talma herself. More interesting are the unattributed quotes that accompany each figurine. I interpret these as memories of Talma, listening to a child as they talk about "Lala".

But we'll get into those later because there are plenty of chores to do! Undeterred by the weird happenings on and off the farm, Talma's life revolves around this little farm, if only by necessity. Her far-off family live their own lives completely separate from hers, and all she can do is wait for their letters. She's too far from them—in terms of distance as well as ability, given her slow speed—to go to them, and from the sound of these letters, she doesn't want to leave the farm. This is the life she chose. Whether or not she's happy with that choice, here she is, living with it, beset only occasionally by strange dreams that seem to defy explanation.

Gameplay

Getting around: controls, accessibility, saving

The game helpfully auto-saves your progress at the start of every day. There are unfortunately no accessibility options, save for a Hail Mary feature that resets all items to their initial position (very helpful if you lose your milk bucket in the hay pile). But Stillness is overall a slow-paced game that derives its stress from the narrative rather than the mechanics.

Milking your goats involves something that can be generously described as a quick-time event: you click your mouse button in a gentle rhythm that only penalizes you if you move too quickly (the goat will helpfully yell at you if you milk too fast). Same with cheese-making: you stir your pot and knead your cheese with mouse actions. Everything else in the game relies on clicking on objects or a spot for Talma to slowly walk to. She can't run, and nothing you do will rush her. She'll get there when she gets there.

If you want, though, you can pick up the walking stick by the door of the farmhouse. It doesn't make Talma walk faster, but you can doodle in the sand as she drags it behind her and laughs as you head wherever you're going.

The desert is vast, and there are precious few landmarks to gauge distance by. Going out after dark is difficult in how tough it becomes to distinguish the flat planes of sand from anything else. While you might be able to follow Talma's footprints back to the farmhouse, even these become impossible to see after sundown.

Goals and economy

There is no inventory. There is no farm screen. There is no way for you to check how many seeds or chickens or food items Talma has at will. Your only real view of your possessions comes from interactions with Laszlo, who will also offer necessities like hay for your goats and seeds for your garden. The economy revolves entirely around barter, meaning that Talma will need to put up some of her eggs or produce in exchange for anything she wants from him.

While this might sound frustrating, I think it's mitigated by the generally laid-back approach to the "farm sim" aspects of the game. There's no way to sell what you produce for money. You have no bank account. Talma has no external goal, no farmer's market to prepare for, no holiday quota of cheese wheels to hit. All that matters is that Talma has enough to survive on. I found that Talma managed perfectly well on a conservative diet of two eggs and maybe a hunk of cheese once a day before bed. She's not climbing mountains, after all. Just digging up a patch of dirt or two every few days, trudging off to the well, and managing her (honestly very well-behaved) livestock.

One chore I quite liked was going foraging with Talma's basket. Not only does Talma use the basket to pick up eggs from the henhouse and produce from your garden, she can also totter out to the desert to forage for mushrooms. Mushrooms can be quite valuable in the barter economy, as the letter-carrier will sometimes remind Talma. They can also be eaten, if you happen to find Talma in a pinch food-wise. The game overall is very forgiving with its farm sim elements: seeds can be bought fairly cheaply, and the goats produce milk every two days for cheese.

Walk, don't run (you have no choice)

The real issue is that there's just not time enough in the day to get to everything. The desert is vast, so you'll run out of time trying to visit every mushroom spot every day. The well is just far enough from the farm for fetching water to be a chore unto itself, and Talma's water bucket only holds enough to water five plants, placing a soft cap on the number of plants she can raise. On top of the gentle pressure of Stillness's time economy is Talma's energy, which can run out if you're not diligent about making sure she eats. If she runs out of energy, she won't be able to do anything else until she gets a meal, which can bring an otherwise productive day to a screeching halt.

All this is to say, the pace of Stillness is quite slow. Talma is an old woman who can't walk very quickly, has no ability to run or jump, and just doesn't have much reason to rush anymore. Her family (kids, grandkids, younger siblings) have all grown up and moved away, and her only connection to the outside world are the letters she receives every day or so.

The shotgun

Eagle-eyed viewers may notice that dear old Nana Talma has a shotgun propped up against the wall of the churn house. That's for good reason: partway through the game, you'll start encountering the wolves after dark (click for a spoiler image). You can buy shotgun shells from Laszlo, and though your targets cannot be killed, they can be scared off by the noise. Most important is what Laszlo will sometimes remind you of: Talma may be tough enough to farm alone in the desert, but she is not and never will be a precision sniper.

Because the wolves only come by at night, you never enter a state of constant threat. But because the wolves don't come every night, you're still in a position of needing to be cautious. If you're out late on a night when they come by, they may slaughter goats. While it's possible not to lose any goats this way, the narrative has other ways to take them away from you: no animal survives to the end of the game, setting Stillness very far apart from the Stardew Valley and Harvest Moon camps.

Narrative software: The story

Characters

There's no character screen or family tree to refer to, so here's how I see it:

Talma is the eldest of "a litter," per a letter from childhood friend and neighbor Vötta (click for the full text of the letter). As far as I can tell, she's the oldest of three, staying in frequent contact with her younger brother Garza and younger sister Eimi. There are named grandparents. Their family name is Yuma.

Talma and an unnamed man had at least two children, Oluna and Sola. Eimi survives her late husband Bren, with whom she had no children. Garza and his wife Moira had several unnamed children. Talma is also the grandmother of a girl named Rama, left behind after Sola abandoned the farm.

The opening titles state that Talma once lived her during a time when "sixteen shoes" waited by the door. Taking that at face value, we can deduce that eight people once lived here. I think these were Talma, her husband, her two children, Eimi, Bren, Garza, and Moira. But at some point, Eimi, Garza, and their respective spouses moved away. Talma's husband's absence is neither commented on nor explained (but I have a theory—more on that later). Oluna's grave can be visited outside the farm. Sola gave birth to a daughter, but we can infer that she ran away from the farm sometime after that, leaving Rama in Talma's care. And as the very first letter on Talma's desk tells us, Rama went off to university as a young adult, leaving Talma all by herself on the farm.

Eimi, late in her post-vanishing mania, sends a letter reminiscing to Talma that their father used to buy all kinds of silly trinkets at the market, framing him as a sort of charming sucker for vendors who sell obvious snake oil. Laszlo, the letter-carrier, will occasionally bring you similar curios that you can buy. He even includes such charming descriptions as Eimi remembers, and they, too, are all smoke and mirrors.

The magical scrying basin is just a birdbath. The Twice-Cursed Heart from the wreck of a legendary pirate galleon is just a lantern crusted with barnacles. I know this because I rode the thin line of sufficience and starvation to buy every single unique item Laszlo brought me, just to see if they amounted to anything. Turns out the curios don't do anything remotely special until the end of the game: their flavor text shifts, like everything else in the game, suggesting either a Magic explanation about their latent power or the Mundane one of Talma beginning to slip into dementia. Whatever the case, the lantern does cast light outside, which is nice on those dark desert nights.

I read this as Talma taking after her father, which casts these little half-remembered mementos in a slightly bittersweet light. Even as she begins to lose her memories of her family and history, her internal world remains robust. Eimi implies in a letter that there's nothing to do on farms but be bored, but Talma's inner life is no less rich for her living out here.

The Stillness of the Wind: Story explained

All right, pals. We're gonna do a bit of close reading here. Let me walk you through the components of my story theory. Spoilers abound, so read with caution:

1. The only book Talma owns at the beginning of the game is called Friemo, and it gives the reader just the contours of a tale. Long ago, there was a plague that killed only twins. A group of magi "planted a branch of their ancestral tree" in the area and began to sell a cure called the Father's Gamble. The catch is that it's not so much a cure as a cull: "The hand that passes the cups must live with the reality of only one surviving. Thus, what greater mercy could there be than a league of men who do not remember they are fathers?"

2. The letter-carrier Laszlo all but confesses his love for Talma in a heartbreaking speech near the end of the game, after which he runs off and is never seen again.

(This has nothing to do with the ending, but: I first played this game shortly after the 2020 pandemic shutdown, and this legitimately brought me to tears. This moment of brief connection meant the world to me, particularly at a time of profound isolation.)

3. When collecting all the little figurines, you get snippets of what I interpret to be Oluna's young life, which paint a picture of her and her sister "Lala" having to take turns "coming out" to play. These quotes suggest that this character gets sick after she and Lala secretly play together. I think that Lala is Sola, following the same nicknaming convention that Eimi (Mimi) and Talma (Ama) use of repeating the last syllable of her name.

4. I didn't nab a screenshot of this, but Laszlo once mentions not knowing or understanding why his clan chose the black cliff trail as their route. At the time, I chalked it up to background worldbuilding. Now, I'm thinking back to Friemo. It wasn't up to him, where the clan set up. How far back does it go?

5. At the end of the game, you can read the full epitaph of the grave by the farm: "Oluna: Daughter Beloved, Sister Ever Missed."

6. The final cutscene of the game (possibly exclusive to collecting all the figurines?) shows Talma standing with two twin girls, one dressed in black and one in white that resembles the girl Talma once dreamed about, and a man with a big white beard who looks suspiciously like Laszlo. The scene is set before a large tree with two big branches behind the farmhouse (click for a spoiler image).

7. Sola's final letter (click for a spoiler image of the whole letter) descends from letter to prose-poetry as her sentences get looser and looser in form. The lines that stands out to me are these: "Laszlo, remembering." and "But I could never be enough / One half of a broken whole"

So, here's my pet theory of big spoilers: Laszlo is the father of Talma's children, twins Sola and Oluna. The single grave and Sola's letters indicate that Sola survived to adulthood and Oluna did not. Perhaps, if Friemo's twin-plague is real, her father gave her and Oluna the Father's Gamble in order to ensure at least one of them lived. Sola ran away from home and has been rather completely estrangd her mother after the birth of her own child, only contacting Talma again after many years. Laszlo may have spend a significant part of his life not remembering that he fathered Sola and Oluna, but he still clearly carries a torch for Talma and outright declares that he has never once regretted walking this long, miserable path to this middle-of-nowhere farm. Ergo, Friemo is not a work of fiction, but a history of this fantastical world.

There is, however, another potential reading: Oluna repeatedly mentions fairies in Talma's memories of her. Lazslo claims that "Fairylord Harp" can attract "fairies, pixies, and elves" when it sounds. Normal enough, except that near the end of her life, Talma's tongue-in-cheek observation about it just being a set of windchimes changes: "If I sit still and listen to these wind-chimese... are these the same lights she saw in the end?" Whichever reading you prefer, there's no denying that both the twin-plague and the fairy-kidnapping options are very sad, and may not be mutually exclusive in the first place.

All this, in a game whose primary gameplay consists of milking goats and tottering out into the desert for a bucket of water.

Aboutness

Margaret Atwood: Happy Endings

There's a Margaret Atwood short story called "Happy Endings" which begins by presenting a very basic outline of a story:

"John and Mary meet. What happens next? If you want a happy ending, try A."

Atwood then gives six scenarios that flood out from the initial premise of John and Mary meeting. There's the married-ever-after-with-kids ending in A, a tragedy in B in which Mary loves John but John doesn't love Mary, the reverse under different circumstances in C, a continuation of C in D and E, and a spy thriller version in F. The key is that most of the endings eventually loop back to A: John and Mary (or Madge and/or Fred) fall in love, get married, and—here's the key—die.

"The only authentic ending is the one provided here: John and Mary die. John and Mary die. John and Mary die."

I first read this story in community college and it's always stuck with me. Atwood uses the final few sentences of the story to encourage "connoisseurs" of stories to favor everything between the beginning and ending, a series of events that need a How and Why to be anything more than just a list of events. Per Atwood, "You'll have to face it, the endings are the same however you slice it."

I bring this up because I think Stillness brings something precious to the table: a beginning in the twilight, a game with a story that focuses in its entirety on the final days of Talma's life. And, if you take my interpretation to be true, John and Mary—Laszlo and Talma—do die at the end. But to say the game is about this is to overlook its true essence. It's everything else that makes that life meaningful.

Tradwife trends: Feminism, control, and stability

Stay with me, here. I'm not as terminally online as I used to be (I have become back my sanity thanks to crochet and ScreenZen), but even I have become aware of the "tradwife" trend. For the unfamiliar, here's a quick overview: Tradwife content centers on the conservative ideal of a traditional wife, a woman who stays home, cooks, cleans, serves her husband, raises kids, etc. There's some overlap with the crunchy/granola mom types who feed their families all-natural, non-GMO, organic etc etc, as well as with the woo-to-Q pipeline finishers who have swung the Overton window all the way back around to drinking raw milk and refusing measles vaccines. Content creators on social media have monetized this lifestyle into a glamorous mosaic of cottagecore, homeschooling, and family life videos.

Without getting sucked into the weeds of dissecting tradwifery and all its problems, I'd like to look at Talma as a sort of end-stage tradwife. Call it an intellectual exercise. Though there are implications that she's visited places beyond the desert, we're given no indication that Talma ever had a meaningful career outside the farm. She's reportedly firm in her conviction to stay where she's lived her whole life. She's raised at least one child to adulthood and has either outlived or simply out-memoried her husband. Where does this leave her?

"Cozy" + "Survival" + "Horror"

I'm not trying to reclassify the game, I'm just making a point. Talma's cozy life turns out to be riddled with stress in ways that don't fully overwrite the cozy aesthetic. Further, gameplay is centered around a soft form of survival: she's not trying to rough it in as an adventurer in the deep jungle or anything, but she's an old woman living alone on an isolated farm. She has to see to as many of her own needs as she can, but even this isolated life has assistance. Lazslo barters hay for her goats, more chickens for her coop, and seeds for her farm plots. But aside from his sporadic visits, Talma is truly alone on her farm with no one to call for help and no neighbors or community to rely on outside of the letter-carrier.

Which makes it all the scarier when the wild birds suddenly vanish.

Talma's routine becomes harder and harder to keep to, entirely due to circumstances beyond her control. As the seasons change, the days get shorter, discouraging exploration far from the farm as the desert becomes difficult to navigate in the dark. The well dries up, so she can't water her plants anymore. The chickens die one by one, leaving you with fewer and fewer eggs. Wolves start picking off the goats, too, and then the farm is silent except for her footsteps. The cheese she worked so hard to make is all ruined by a sandstorm. And to top it all off, any food Talma happens to have stockpiled becomes worthless when she runs out of firewood to operate the stove. Even if we take the most charitable and optimistic view possible and presume that Talma has made all the right choices and done all the right things for her whole life before the start of the game, she is still left in a deeply perilous situation that she could never have avoided.

To bring this closer into reality: Suppose a woman's husband truly is a good and decent person who would never hurt, cheat, abuse, or defraud her. Suppose her children are all well-behaved little angels who are eager to learn and dutifully complete all their chores until they set out on their own. Suppose the woman finds tremendous joy in all of this.

What happens if her husband is hit by a car and can no longer work? Or worse: What if he's struck by a devastating medical event and dies? What if one of her lovingly reared children develops a complicated health condition that requires a lot of time, money, and attention to manage? What if she develops one such condition? If her husband handles all the money, will she know what to do if he has a stroke and can't communicate anymore? Is she prepared to care for him? And if not, does she know everything she needs about her family's finances to procure and set up care for him? If she outlives her husband, is she confident in her ability to independently manage the rest of the life she once trusted him with?

Even in the most charitable of situations in which a couple is economically stable enough and fully in support of a wife stepping out of the working world to focus on the family while a husband works as the sole breadwinner, there is always a potential complication. You can do everything right, make every good decision, prepare perfectly with everything you have, and you can still get shafted by the universe. The sword of Damocles that shatters your best-laid plans might be as sudden as a stroke, or as devastating as a cancer diagnosis, or as simple as a well running dry. This is the stuff of story, as well as of meaning.

The only true ending: John and Mary die

The Stillness of the Wind ends somewhat abruptly, but I interpret Talma disappearing from the screen after visiting Oluna's grave one last time to be a case of Artistic License: Main Character Death. It's the most logical place for the game to end, really. But, as Atwood points out, the what of this story isn't as interesting as the how and why.

Talma's family have been sending her letters that chronicle increasingly unsettling events, for which no one has any explanation. The family is dedicated to helping each other through these bizarre times and band together to cooperate while keeping Talma updated by posting these regular letters. Talma is, in every sense, located outside the how and why. She has no way to help and is in no position to control anything that they do, let alone what happens to them. She can't send them resources. She can't leave the farm to assist in person. It's a uniquely anxiety-inducing take on the Apocalyptic Log brand of environmental storytelling—but instead of chancing upon unrelated missives during a venture into true survival-horror territory, Talma can do nothing else but manage her farm while the city suffers a spate of inexplicable, impossible disappearances. In Stillness, survival is the meaning of life, and horror is the threat of death.

Theme

There's surely more to delve into that I have yet to cover. Every single line of text takes on more meaning the more I read them back. How much of Talma's odd dreams and resistance to leaving the farm are rooted in a dislike or fear of progress? Does she stay put out of a sense of connection to the farm, or is she just set in her ways and feels she's too old to change? I encourage you to give the game a shot and see what you pull away from it. Because Talma is given so little on-screen characterization, it's easy to project your own ideas onto her. Maybe you'll learn something about your own feelings toward family, toward mortality, toward death.

This game has no achievements. I'm a fan of this because I think the work being utterly meaningless is the point of this game. The Stillness of the Wind is an art piece by way of video game, and the futility of Talma's sudden, end-stage farm life is the driving force of it all. In the end, you will always lose control of what matters, no matter what you think matters. And it's not even a question of whether you can make peace with that. Whether or not you do, the control is lost. That is reality. That is the only true ending.

Especially when read this way, I don't think everyone (or even most people) will find Stillness a comforting work about the end of life, but I do think it's remarkably honest. Even before the start of the game, Talma has fulfilled the life's work of a truly self-sacrificing person, if not an outright tradwife: she has raised her younger siblings, her daughter, and her granddaughter, and helped them all toward lives filled with more material, intellectual, and financial wealth than her own. Is this a good ending? Should we pay more attention to the ending than the story, just because the ending is what we personally experience alongside Talma? If the story is good, does the ending really matter all that much?

We don't get much of any indication of Talma's internal thoughts or feelings on what's happening around and without her. Outside of flavor text about the farm, the thing I found most compelling was this: For the first few figurines, examining the shelf prompted Talma to touch them with a laugh. Toward the end of the game, after I found them all, she would touch them and cry.

Game taxonomy

What's this? Check out my taxonomy breakdowns page.

GoobieNet Radar Chart: Values out of 10

Narrative: 7.75. You might have to do a bit of digging and interpretation in order to strike upon the thing I interpreted as the full story, but once you do, it's got you by the throat.

Gameplay: 8. The calming repetition of doing all your chores giving way to the stress of knowing you're losing control over your circumstances is captivating. I wouldn't call it a Post-Dad Game, but if this repetitive kind of gameplay speaks to you, you're in for a treat.

Style: 6.5. The visuals are simple and tidy, but it's easy to lose items and collide with obstacles on accident. I wish the control prompts were bigger/clearer, too. On the whole, not huge issues, but a little polish could have really sent this to the moon.

Innovation: 4. The most innovative thing here is that it can be described as a farming sim that has a very clearly defined end that inherently defies any thought of an "endless mode" or other farming sim postgame. But even then, I think using "farming sim" as the game's main descriptor is a superficial way to describe the whole experience of Stillness.

Satisfaction: 8. This is a game for yearners. I enjoyed my time, all the while knowing that it plays so slowly that that's my main reason for not diving straight into another replay.

Tetris-Higurashi Rating Scale

I give this game a -7. If you aren't into the gameplay, you aren't going to have a good time, no matter how interesting you find the story. The core gameplay loop of doing chores within a set and ever-dwindling timespan can be neither rushed nor skipped if you'd like to focus elsewhere. Although I guess you could always just have Talma sleep through the entire game... but at that point, why are you even playing?

Fave five

Favorite character: Garza and Pott are tied here, which I'm sure both men would be very upset about. I have a huge soft spot for older characters who have compromised their dreams and taken actions/made mistakes they regret. Garza reneging on his dream of being a poet to run a newsroom and Pott have sacrificed almost everything about him (including a fond relationship with Talma) to become a successful politician just hit harder in your 30s, I guess. I always loved reading their letters.

Favorite song on the soundtrack: Talma's Theme. I love a good, bittersweet piano solo.

Favorite item: Cheese. Reliable input, reliable output, plus a bonus for being a good person and petting your goats before milking. I wish the free market ran so reliably on kindness.

Favorite curio: The Cloudswimmer's scrying basin/well-constructed birdbath. I loved seeing the little wild birds come for a dip every day, and missed their absence so much more when that time came.

Favorite letter: This one from Garza (click for full text). What can I say? I'm a sucker for musings about mortality: "I have pondered how, in our age, we aspire toward ideal health. Now I see that 'ideal' is a shoreline receding. [...] My news presses race to keep up with the foreign dignitaries, royalty, and celebrities all coming to see [the festival]. Meanwhile, Moira reminds me I have been neglecting our grandchildren. Yet all I can do is stare at Father's watch, its silvered hands finally still."

Flinn played "The Stillness of the Wind" on PC via Steam. The game is also available on Nintendo Switch, Mac, and iOS.

Save 85% on The Stillness of the Wind on Steam

A quiet game of life and loss. One by one, everyone left the village for the city. Everyone, except Talma. Approaching her final years, she maintains a simple way of life tending to her homestead, surviving, subsisting, whilst increasingly disturbing letters arrive from her family in the city.

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