Into The Labyrinth: The Unsellable Seaside Mansion At The End Of Time (with Cat Stevens & Marcel Duchamp)

FICTION | MODERN HAIBUN

This is a continuation of Into The Labyrinth, a modern haibun inspired by Basho's Narrow Road To The Interior but it can be read as a stand alone piece. Click for parts 1 2 & 3

Time passed and the cartographic cassette tape I’d received from the monks in the underground temple held me in good stead. George Michael’s album Faith would switch from ear to ear, indicating whether I should turn left or right. If I reached a crossroads the music signal would cut out all together and then I only had to turn around in a circle and wait for the music to start up again to find my new path. My steps were light, my mind clear, and although one can never be too certain, I was drawing closer to the mountain that lay at the heart of the labyrinth. The great red rock spire was to me what Mount Fuji was to the Japanese: a spiritual destination, a place where I could gain the perspective needed to see the way out of the labyrinth once and for all. 

By the end of the day George Michael’s voice became stretched, distorted and weak and my enthusiasm waned with it.

Before this riiiiiver becomes an ooooocean

Before you throwwwww my heaaaaart back on the floor (I just gotta have faith)

My batteries were running out. I needed a new pair of AAs. I turned off the music and reverted to my learned skills in labyrinth navigation, but this close to the center the pathways were much more complex and confounding.

On the third night after leaving the ruined hotel, I huddled against one of the walls and tried to sleep.

I woke up the next morning with a stiff neck and aching back but my mood improved immediately when I saw familiar markings on the labyrinth walls.