- Hi, excuse me, hi! - Oh, hello there. I didn’t see you. - I’m sorry to bother you, but could you please tell me how to get out of here? - Why, are you lost? In a maze? - The truth is, I am. - Wow, I’m a-maze-d.- Funny. - I thought so. It’s easy to get out of here, just follow the yellow arrows and you’ll be back. - Okay, thank you. - Have you seen the castle? It’s quite beautiful. - No. I’d like to see the rose garden first.

Tiptoe, tiptoe, tiptoe. Be silent. Tiptoe. In the heart of the island, under the king’s palace he rests, waiting, waiting. For princes to eat and princesses to slay. Tiptoe.

Through the walls of the maze, microscopic lights from the flowers, a wall of scent. It was his idea to go to countryside this Sunday, and now he is absorbed in some discussion with a guide about the architecture of the castle and the his-tory of the maze. Or the other way around. She stood beside him, nodding politely at first, and then leaving. Why this passion for mazes. He is the most organised person she has ever met. Being lost is not his thing. Randomly strolling around, she realises she does not know were she is. Steam rises from the grass. Dry mouth, dry tongue, heavy head. For a moment it looks like a goat, goat legs, hairy legs but it must be the sun reflected in her glasses. He is indeed very pretty. Not her type, but pretty.

- I can join you in the rose garden, miss. Or is it Mrs.? I hope not. - I’d love to. And it’s miss. - Thank God. Sorry. I don’t mean to be pushy. Bad habit. - I’m not sure I can forgive you for that. - Hey, hey, hey miss! Don’t break my heart! Can I offer you a glass of wine in the rose garden as a deeply apologetic gesture? - Umm…- Umm as in yes or umm as in no?

She looks over her shoulder. She cannot find him; he is probably still talking to that guide about some obscure histori-cal event.

- Umm as in yes!

She is running barefoot on the red sand. Fingertips touching the wall, it disappears under her skin. The Minotaur, she saw him, him and his princess traitor sister. Bull head. Red thread. Follow it. Ocean rolling in the distance.

The rose petals have a baby-skin like colour. Covered in silk. Their fragrance and the bees humming hammer on the head. It is a pleasant escape and she tries to ignore her mother’s voice. You’re such a dreamer. Why live in your own head, when you have so much potential? They are the same, mum and he, organised, with an uncanny ability to de-tect flaws. So what if she wears one sock inside out?

- It’s beautiful here. - Yes, indeed it is. Wine? - Thanks. Oh, this is good! Really full-bodied and rich. I don’t think I’ve had it before. - It’s from my own vineyard. I tell you, all you need is love and passion to do a decent wine. - Wow. That sounds nothing at all like a cliché. - Have some more, and that sarcasm of yours will be long gone. - Have you ever seen a rain in the desert?- Nope, never have. I prefer forests and mazes. - It’s amazing. It’s like an electric shock and there’s suddenly spring. And then it all dies. So beautiful in all it’s meaning-lessness. - Let there be light… Hey, hey, want to join me at a party later? Lots of wine, food, animals, clowns, sex, if you’re up for it, music, candy…

Solitary fireflies covering the dome. It is time. Hold on to the sword. Tiptoe. The yarn between fingers. The lock of hu-man hair, remove it. Remove it and run.

The red liquid is effective. One glass, and the maze seems to disintegrate into molecules, floating in the afternoon sun. The sky above is moving in slow circles. It is time to go back. He must be worried.

- No. I don’t think so. I have a boyfriend and he would mind. I should probably get back now. - I don’t think he would mind. Please, stay, just for one more glass. - Umm…- Umm as in yes! - Fine, one more glass then. A quick one. - And then, we shall attend my party! - So where is this party?

Rig the ships, leave shore. The wind is right, it is time. Traitor, come with me. Your brother’s body will remain in his stone prison. We shall sacrifice no more. We shall rest on the steep island, I shall abandon you and black sails shall return to the capital. King, beware of the cliffs.

The sun is slowly dying and the heat decreases. Pieces of celestial bodies appear in the bleak sky. She is alone in the forest, surrounded by empty bottles, and what appear to be dead corpses of animals. Slaughtered. She finds blood on her hands and face. It is almost dark, and the blood seems black. She starts to cry, unable to find a way out. Some-thing behind her, a movement, something touches her shoulder.

- Miss, hello! I am sorry. You were sleeping. We are closing. You have been sleeping for quite some time. - Oh, I’m sorry. I had a bad dream. I just have to find my boyfriend and I’ll leave. - I’m sorry miss, but you came on your own. You were in the group guided by me, remember? - Off course, off course. It’s the heat.- I can give you a ride home, if you like. Maybe we can stop for a drink somewhere?

She looks at him in the evening light. He is indeed very pretty, not her type, but pretty.

- Sure, why not.

Go away. Your wine is poisoned, I can feel how it comes crashing through the cell membranes. Find something else to hunt. Why, traitor princess. Why so sad? Why dig those tiny holes in your subconscious? Let me immure you, let me shut your demons off in your basement. Come, dance with me into oblivion, it is adjacent, just around the peak.

EVER RÊVE

SPRING SUMMER 2013 www.everreve.com

Photography: Sejin AhnModel: Aleksandra TalachaStory: Hanna Ricksten

Michelle Urvall Nyrénmichelle@everreve.com+44 (0) 7585211725

Karol Galazka karol@everreve.com+44 (0) 7517479626

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