Mazes

I find myself very contemplative as I write this. I’m not fighting to write, or rather, not having to let my imagination be tapped into by fog, which is a fun way to vanquish your enemy and make it do the very thing you wanted. Actually, that’s a joke. Sort of. I find that letting it take over, have the spotlight, lead me, it’s still easier to write. It’s not going away, leaving me in the lurch, and I’m not apprehensive about trying to write anymore, because even if I can’t think, can’t concentrate on what I originally wanted, I know that it will probably take me somewhere just as interesting. 

I decide to summon it now, because it’s kind of hard to explain how I’m thinking right now. Strange for a writer, I know, but not so much if you just go about it a different way. All right, enough boring you with my ramblings. 

I sit back, and let the fog encompass me, until the scene in my head comes into focus. I’m in a strange chamber. The shape is… indiscernible; there are no windows, and many doors, a small wooden chair the only piece of furniture. My footsteps echo on the floor. Tile? Or marble? The doors all look the same, arched, sturdy, and with an iron handle. Some are tucked into corners, alcoves, and archways, and some are along corridors, long and short. Some are close together, some farther apart, and some seem to stand alone. As I explore, I notice that some of the halls join and meet others, or split and branch. I decide to keep exploring the hall I’m already in. I open the closest door. Behind it is another room, this one small, with brightly painted walls, and another door on the other side. I think for a moment. Should I go to the other door? There are so many others… I finally decide to just go peek. I gasp when I open it; there are gold nuggets, jewels, and raw precious stones everywherE. I chuckle. It’s just like a dragon’s hoard, though I see no where for such a beast to enter. I slowly reach out and pick up a small stone, about the size of a dime. It’s plastic. I should’ve guessed. I drop it, then pick something else up with a shrug. Oh… this is a regular stone, although it’s lovely; like a stone I wrote of in one of my poems. I slip it into my pocket, having a strange compulsion to keep it. I reach to explore more, but an invisible force keeps my hand from touching something that looks gold. Curious. After a moment, I shut the door and exit the bright room. The next door opens upon a blast of wind that nearly knocks me back. It is dim, but it looks as if there is a path I couLd travel if I chose. However, it would be a struggle against the wind, and I’m not sure how long it is, or where it goes. I close the door, and decide that I could explore, but that I’d need to be more prepared. I take a turn in another hall, this one longer, with curves and turns. When I come to the end and open the door, I just stand there. A plain, tiny stone room, with no other exits or windows; a dead end room. Why is this even here? I shut the door firmly, and make my way back through the long, twisting hall. I come to a nook with a single door. I open it; before me is a beautiful wooded path, the trees along either side close together, their branches arching up to make a canopy. I take a cautious step forward, and then another. Nothing seems to be amiss… Just as I’m wondering if I should head down this path, I notice what looks like a cave entrance a little ways away, presumably at the end of the path. I continue walking. The hard packed dirt under my feet is a bit uneven, but not hard to traverse. The temperature is perfect; there is a slight breeze, and dapples of soft sunlight peek through the canopy in some places. After a while of walking, I begin to get thirsty, but there’s no water around. Thankfully, I approach the cave soon after, and cautiously enter. There is a gentle slope, and at the bottom, there is a small pool to one side, and a door on the other. The water looks clean and clear, so I cup my hands and drink before moving through the door. I am now back in another Hall. This one is long, but straight, with a great deal of doors. With a shrug, I open the one I’m closest to. I raise my eyebrows. It looks like… Just… Trash. Odds and ends, crumpled paper, little pieces of wood and plastic and a couple of other unidentifiable materials. My finger catches on something; a length of leather cord With a piece of bent, but sturdy looking, thin silver wire knotted onto it. Maybe something that was once a piece of jewelry? I look at it for a moment with a thoughtful frown, and then slip it into my pocket. I’m not sure why, But I feel like maybe I could use it somehow… Maybe for… Yes, I could probably wrap the wire around the pretty stone in my pocket somehow, and turn it into a necklace. I take the cord back out of my pocket, and straighten the wire. A bit difficult to do with just my fingers, but manageable. I take the stone out of my pocket and wrap the wire around it once, twisting it tightly while trying to keep the stone from moving, and then Pulling the ends of wire over the other two sides to secure it. I twist a couple of times To close the wire, and almost stab myself trying to tuck in the sharp points. Finally, though, it is done. I adjust the cord and slip it around my neck. Something else catches my attention, and I laugh wryly. A small canteen, a bit dusty, but perfectly serviceable. I guess sometimes it’s true what they say… One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. I don’t see anything else useful, so I exit. The next door that I come to will not open. I try pushing on it, wiggling and twisting the handle, and even yanking on it, to no avail. The same thing happens with the next one I try, and the next, and three more. Finally, I come to a door that opens. There is another small hallway that sort of curves back-and-forth in a type of snake pattern, but when I come to the end, there is nothing but a wall. Retracing my steps, I try the next door. It opens onto… Darkness. Complete and total darkness. Somehow, not even light from outside seeps in. I cautiously reach out a hand through the doorway, trying to feel around for any obstacles. Nothing. Then, A sudden oppressiveness moves through me; it feels foreboding, and the darkness is strangely slightly vacuous. I pull back my arm… And my bones turn to water. My hand, and most of my forearm is gone. Just… Completely gone, as if I never had that part of my arm in the first place. There is no pain, no gore, no blood. My arm simply… Ends just slightly below my elbow. My blood is icy with terror as I stare. It feels like the darkness is trying to slowly expand out of the room; I slam the door shut. If I Had gone further… I back away from the door and shiver violently. I don’t know how to get the rest of my arm back! I don’t understand how it happened! Desperately, I summon a bit of the fog around my limb and try to re-create it, to make it whole again. Thankfully, after a moment, it works. I flex my fingers to make sure, and then touch my face, the wall, my other hand. I grasp the handle of another door, but I am shaking, and am afraid to open it. After a very, very long moment, I slowly inch the panel back. This one looks to be another nature scene. The grass is lush and green, the trees are tall and old, there is a babbling brook of crystal clear water, and I can hear a concert of nature. However, it looks as if I am hemmed in on all sides by underbrush that is too thick to go through. So, in a sense, this is another dead end, albeit a beautiful one. The next door opens onto a brick wall that reaches above my head, but does not touch the ceiling. There is no way around it, and I have no way to climb over it or break through… So I shut yet another door, and try another. This one is… Interesting. It is another hallway, made different only by the sconces in intervals along the walls, each one with a lit candle that throws pools of light across the otherwise shadowed passage. I hesitate, understandably, before taking a very slow, very cautious step forward. Nothing happens. I continue, walking slowly. This path feels… a bit mysterious for some reason. There is something that I can’t quite place, but thankfully, it doesn’t feel evil, foreboding, or dangerous in any way. Although, I have a strange mixture of feelings… peacefulness, curiosity, and oddly, the slightest bit of unsettlement, although that could just be me. As I follow the gentle curve, I realize that it is gradually sloping upwards as well. After a few more moments, I open the door at the end, and gasp. The scene before me is a landscape that seems to be made of ice and snow. Drifts are piled high on either side, and yet more snowflakes fall in a never ending shower. The wind seems to blow from all directions. For a moment, I think about turning back, but then I notice that the path is fairly short. I can just see another door a little distance away. The cold bites into every part of my body. I turn around, but the door is gone, replaced by a high snow bank. I hurry along the path. Already it feels like I am beginning to freeze, but just a couple more feet ahead and I reach the door. My numb fingers fumble a moment before I finally stumble across the threshold. I… I don’t believe it! I’m back at the very beginning! Where I first started! I’m standing in the vaguely circular juncture of all of the twisting, turning, crossing corridors, and all the other little corners and nooks! I am still extremely cold, shivering and moving around to try and get warm again. Then, I feel something… somewhere... a subtle shift. I watch as the little wooden chair in front of me transforms into a small couch with thick, soft looking cushions and high arms. Some of the halls disappear, to be replaced buy a fireplace. I slowly walk over to the couch and sink down, just staring at the dancing flames as they begin stretching their fingers of warmth out to me. So, I’m here again, only now it’s slightly different. I did all that looking around, all that exploring, all that walking and… I glance down at my hand again and shiver. I’m not sure where exactly I’m supposed to go or what I’m supposed to do. I curl up on the cushions and close my eyes. Although it is warm and peaceful here, I find that my eyes are stinging with tears. I sigh softly and just rest, since that seems all I can do right now. I feel a bit hungry. Then, with only a thought, I realize I have conjured up food and drink. I begin to feel sleepy now, and in my half drifting state, I think I hear whispers and other soft sounds coming from other hallways and behind doors and around corners. I push it all away, because I’m pretty sure it’s only my imagination. After a moment, there is just the soft hiss and pop of the fire. I curl into a more comfortable position, and wish that I had someone here with me. Then, I feel a presence; someone beside me, their arms around me. But I am almost enveloped by sleep now, and I can’t tell. Is that real, or am I just imagining it, too? I wish, and hope, that it is real, that there is someone here, as I fall into slumber.