It is an urban legend. A tale for the tourists. A maze of alleyways with no way out, where reckless explorers are destined to wander forever lost.
After a night of drinking Natasha and I take up the challenge. We enter the old town through its only entrance, holding hands as we skip through the claustrophobic streets.
It is not long before we become separated, and night becomes morning.
After my third night alone and disorientated I finally find another person up ahead. She is now many years older than when I left her, but it is still unmistakably Natasha.
A 100 word story based on the photo prompt from the Friday Fictioneers.
Photo (c) Rochelle Wisoff-Fields