We reach the next signpost and find our initials carved into the wood, confirming our suspicion that we have been walking round in circles, despite taking instruction from the signs.
We conclude that someone has tampered with the signs, has realigned them into an infinite loop as a prank. Without a map or compass we are unable to confirm this theory, only having the signs and pathways to guide us. The further we walk the faster the light fades, the night slowly threatening to erode the day with its own image of the present.
At the next signpost we find our own initials again, and familiar stone steps leading up the hillside to our left. Natasha goes up the steps to look over the horizon, hopeful of finding our exit.
It is almost dusk now, the air like stale bread. When she comes back down her face has lost all colour.
Let’s keep going and follow the signs she says, quickening her pace as she does so.
A story based on the photo prompt from Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Photo (c) J. S. Brand