It's been a while since I've crept over to the Library of Unusual Twists, but I see that the labyrinth of hedges that encircles the building is in need of a trim, and the paths have become neglected to the point that some of the passages have overgrown completely.

In contrast, the thick growth of the hedges reminds me of an earlier time when the library's gardens had so many souls wandering around in and through the leafy maze that trimming was hardly needed-- the cobblestones were kept free of debris and it seemed that a fresh breeze was always finding it's way down the hedgerows.

Even now, standing in the thickets, I can remember how so long ago we ran through this vast maze without a care. Sometimes we found a songbird leading us on bright walks into forgotten parks, and always weaving our way inward fearlessly; if the little bird dared, then we double dared.

Finding the way to the library was not our quest, though, was it? We all knew the way to the stony bridge, and how to traverse the little flowered meadows before the stairways and the majestic hallway of trees leading to the entrance of the great library-- but even with such legendary grandeur, the mazes were always the best part of the library. We could stay lost in there just for the adventure, and we gladly detoured through the shady tunnels of ivy around the huge stones along the creeks, not because it was the way, but because we had time.

These hedges all seem shorter now, and I may have missed my turn. Indeed, in later years many of us were lost in here, and some of those who finally set in to search for the library became terribly lost, while others stayed in the depths of the maze out of shame, unable to leave the hedges because they never located the mythical place. As their memories faded, their belief in the legends began to seem foolish, like childish fantasies, and they couldn't face an outside world that was surely laughing at them.

For some of us though, the memories of the place remained clear; a towering presence, it's many windows reflecting sunlight over the fertile gardens surrounding it, and while the library appeared monolithic at a distance, we all knew that up close the place was ornate and detailed, inside and out.

I'll admit that in those early days, I did take part in groups who collectively longed to see the library again, so we began attempting to force our way into the thickets in our desire to revisit the magic that was concealed behind the mazes. We valiantly whipped out our machetes and our long-handled blades and we went in deep a few times. We even tried using complex trail-blazing machinery to bully our way in, and while those journeys revealed some startling sights and insights, we would soon be low on fuel and we'd run out of fun, and we would return to our lives as the labyrinths quickly re-grew behind us.

Now it's clear that I've turned the wrong way. It has been a while though. But we knew every path! I thought I'd just walk right in with a joyful whistle, but it's already late, and there probably won't be time for a proper story today from the Library of Unusual Twists. Those shadows I recognize, and since three rights make a left, then three lefts should be the right way back out. Then, maybe not. It has become quite dark, but maybe the night will pass quickly. Maybe the morning light will reveal a missing turn, or a songbird will sing the way, and the library will loom again over the far trees. The morning at least will show me the way home.

And when I return, what will I tell them? Can I even go back? What will they say when I stumble out of the maze with no books to show them? They'll say what I fear the most; that there is no library, and there never was.

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thanks as always for reading along and nearly going to the library, we will get a little closer another day perhaps. If you like this odd fiction, let me know somehow down below, I do appreciate the input, up-votes and follows

All pics in this post graciously provided by Pixabay free images

@therealpaul