One day, the Minotaur awoke to find that his curse had been lifted: he first noticed that his head was lighter without the horns. Secondly, he was rather shocked by the complete and total absence of the Labyrinth. His peripheral vision made him dizzy. It was strange not walking at right angles: everywhere he seemed to arrive too quickly and by too direct a path. So it was indeed all of a sudden he found himself in a gigantic city, teeming with people, some of whom addressed him as an old friend, for he was old.
The city was grey and strangely beautiful, with random weather and food in very large portions.
And what became of him there? Was there ever a labyrinth -or nothing but? And what of I his encouraging voice? Had I led him out or astray? Could I be heard outside its infinite corners, or was I, too, simply a figure of speech? A way of talking, but not a thing that talked?
I will let you know. As I know, in at least one month's time, if not sooner. Until then, fellow citizen of this merciless city of turns, know that the Encouraging Voice is not silent, but pausing to admire you. That something that speaks at all times and all places, simultaneously, without interruption, perfectly equivocal on every point can never truly be said to be silent, just as the Minotaur was never alone, nor his voice, so long as you were there to hear it.
Van Choojitarom
WILL RETURN IN
"LA PHOENIX ROUGE"
20 APRIL 2007
8 comments:
I mourn the passing of The Voice of the Labyrinth; and eagerly anticipate the riseof The Phoenix Rouge!
Oontbelievable to think that the Voice is no longer with us. Can the Phoenix really take its place? I think not. Or possibly, I think - not.
So, it's the 20th of April...
we're waiting...
Number of Van's blogs finished reading: 1
Number to go: ∞
The one good thing about the curse of writing is that it is guaranteed to end.
I think you probably have at least another 40 years in you (especially since everyone knows that Asians don't get old until they're 80), and maybe by then they'll have perfected brain transplantation.
Case in point: Ray Bradbury just died today at the age of 91, and he was writing stories up until the very end.
Speaking of Bradbury, what do you think about the proposal to create an "error 451" web page code when Bradbury hated the internet and intended his book to be a commentary on electronic media rather than sensorship?
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