The Labyrinth grows from forgotten places. Or rather, forgotten places grow the Labyrinth. I forget which it is, but as I clutch my trusty ball of string in hand I know that this mall has been recently swallowed. The old places are covered in yarn, the different colors and kinds weaving into a tapestry of comfy hammocks. Yet, the place I’ve wandered into is empty and dead.

    How disappointing. I wanted a nap.

    My string trails behind me as always. For once I’m not looking down at it. I take a moment to stare up. I haven’t seen the sky in ages, but there it is- glassed off but visible. It give the entire area an aqua blue tint. I see myself reflected on the glass of closed storefronts beside me like phantom friends. We take a step, continuing my search for a comfy spot to rest.  Then we stop.

    There’s a stranger here.

    A somewhat round woman stands at a counter advertising pretzels. Her company hat has fallen low on her brow and the expression on her face is dead inside. I almost mistake her as a zombie. Her name tag helpfully labels her as “Bella.” She stares at me as I weave across the fallen chairs between us, my string already forming the Labyrinth’s tapestry. 

    “What will it be?” Bella’s voice is full of saccharine sweetness and fake pep. She presses a button on her cash register. It's all a well rehearsed routine. 

    “What.” 

    “The menu is up there.” She points up and I instead look at the dusty fryers behind her. “Is everything ok?”

    My face stretches into an uncomfortable smile and I try not to let my eyes bulge to an uncanny extent. I back away, my heels clacking on the brick floor. It echoes throughout the empty mall. 

    “When was the last time you went home?” I manage to ask. She twists a ring on her left hand just as her mouth twists in suspicion.

    “Ma’am, if you’re not going to order then please leave.”

    I spread my arms out. “Nobody else is here. Everywhere else is closed. Why is that?”

    Her face remains irritated but blank. Bella taps her fingers on the counter as her eyes follow my gestures. No realization come to her. She’s been alone too long. 

    “It’s just not busy right now.” 

    I take a step forward now and open the pouch at my belt. I enclose my fingers on a spare ball of string. I squeeze it tightly and try to hand it to Bella. She needs it more than I do.

    “Bella,” I try to say this as kindly as I can. I’ve never forgotten when I was on the other end of this conversation, when I was swallowed by this Labyrinth. “This mall is never going to be busy again.”