Daybreak By Roberto Carcache Flores

It was only a few hours before dawn, before the public could admire his craft, and so the labyrinth maker stood before his masterpiece. Although he could not see the entirety of his work from this vantage point, the maker knew the precise age, size, and roughness of every slab he’d used. His design was just as painfully chiseled in his memory.

The labyrinth maker felt a soft breeze, imperceptible to anyone else, so he closed his eyes and followed this whisper deep into his creation. Each twist and bend pierced through his wordless reverie as the sun began to rise and the breeze became even fainter.

Dead ends,

No.

This way,

Turn, turn, turn.

All at once, the breeze came back and swept the labyrinth maker off his feet.

© 2016 Roberto Carcache Flores

Roberto Carcache Flores is a Salvadoran writer working on his first novel. He likes to express his silences through poetry and everything else in prose. Sometimes he believes he is not a real person, but this is nothing to get worked up about.

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