Fence

They always react the same. The clients. When we step through that door, they always have the same face as they take in their new surroundings. They're stuck in awe, and yet they're so so frightened. Not out of fear for personal safety, or of possibly losing themselves within this place. They're scared because their dreams have actually come true.What they've lusted after for years isn't some myth. It wasn't fantasy. It wasn't some lie they clung onto to give themselves security. No.

It was the real deal. It's sanctuary to them. It always is.

"We must get moving. Keep close. Don't leave my sight. Go."

I led them into the labyrinth. They stared up at the impossible structures. The journalist's mouth hung open. I chuckled. They hadn't seen anything yet. I led them into the labyrinth, down an empty street. Cracks in the concrete. Shop windows broken. Streetlights blinked furiously.

The sound of silence perpetuated despite our footsteps.

It smelled just the same as I left it. It's an unknown smell. I couldn't describe it. Even if you gave me an eternity to work out the description. It filled me with melancholy. And yet, something else too. It felt like I was home.

Then suddenly we were no longer in the recognized labyrinth, but in a new environment. Ancient trees pushed up from a dense, gray ground and rusted cars lay hidden throughout our surroundings. I panicked a little. This was new.

Usually, the sanctuary appears as a forested wasteland near the end of the journey. This was not the case here. Everything was being shuffled around, as if to spook me and push me out of my comfort zone. It wouldn't make a difference though. I still knew my way there.

We rested at the center of a field on the hood of a burnt out car. The two of them obviously detested rest. They hardly settled down, even after I explained to them how important strength was in this journey. They rolled their eyes and patted their feet against the ground in anticipation of movement.

And then, after fifteen minutes of good rest, I was leading them once again. We heard the roar of some river, but we never came across it. This was perplexing. The roar of the river surrounded us, as if it was directly nearby, and yet we never saw one drip of water.

It was at it's loudest as we turned a bend in the trail. It was as if the river would reveal itself to us finally. Instead, a rusted fence and a barren field greeted us, with hardly anything else in sight.

We couldn't hear the river any longer.

We've been walking alongside the fence ever since.