It would not be a labyrinth without feeling like something is studying, watching you, the lab rat. There is a sensory deprivation to it. Winding… winding… nothing but winding paths, twisting and turning for all of eternity. It is easy to lose yourself in the loss of direction and reason. Your only purpose, the frivolous task of finding the sole needle- an exit- in the haystack of false trails. What a waste of the valuable resource of time.

Here, there is nothing but The Maze. You know what else appears maze-like? A brain. I suppose it’s symbolic. Symbolic of the inner workings of our minds and the madness such a life devoid of meaning evokes.

Occasionally, you encounter another wanderer. I will admit, the psychology of it fascinates me. In this vast network of forks that snake every which way, the likelihood of meeting another is slim at best. And yet, it still happens. How? Well, I suppose there is a pattern to our brains. If a few people have similar strategies, concepts of pattern, they are much more likely to meet. What a way to find a friend.

This happened to be one such occasion.

Aimless meandering led me to a room of the maze, a place that would serve me well for sleep. Not that rooms differed much, except slightly in terms of shape. As for sleep, each individual has their own schedule. Time is arbitrary in a world so lacking in structure and stability.

So, in the middle of my chosen nighttime rest, I awoke to footsteps. I had gotten so used to the quiet solitude that even this soft of a noise could rouse me. My eyes shot open. I almost forgot how to speak to anyone but myself.

“Hello?” I croaked, my voice trembling like the legs of a newborn deer. The stranger seemed just as flummoxed.

So there we were, two wanderers, similar in nature, conquering chance with luck, with nothing else around but the walls of the maze. Now, we can be alone together. We can be each others’ reason to keep putting one foot in front of the other in a futile hope to escape.