💾 Archived View for midnight.pub › posts › 525 captured on 2023-03-20 at 20:17:01. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
⬅️ Previous capture (2021-12-03)
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After having a drink or two - likely beer, but perhaps something else - you rise from your barstool to go visit the head. You know the way, you've been here plenty of times before. This is not an act that requires much consideration, it is simply a function of bar patronage and bodily process. Nothing more.
You walk to the back of the pub, casually picking up the conversations of other patrons, the gentle sound of background music. The restroom door is back there. It is single stall. Important to knock, as the simple slide lock doesn't always catch. However, before proceeding with your business, you notice another door, just to the right, that you've never seen before. The only marker on the door is a brass number 8, that seems to have slipped its fixing a bit, so it hangs to the side . . . almost an infinity symbol, if not for the typographic weight that clearly indicates an eight.
Suddenly, bodily functions seem a less pressing matter. All that you care about now is seeing what is behind the sideway 8 door. You turn the knob and push the door inward.
You're standing at the head of a hallway. Not just any hall though; an impossibly long hallway. Architecturally it is not a possibility in this pub, or likely any other structure, yet here it is nonetheless. So long indeed that it might just go on forever. You think of the sideway 8 and how it looked curiously like an infinity sign. Coincidence? Perhaps. All along the hallway are doors, each seemingly identical to the next save for differing brass numbers on them. Evens run down the right hand side, odds down the left.
Possibilities, perhaps endless. Which door do you open and enter next?
I stand there gawping at the hallway stretching down into infinity. I spin around, hoping to retreat into the familiar setting of the pub, but I'm met with a blank wall.
Damn, I left my drink back at the counter. Luckily, I'm still a little schmozzled to laugh at the situation. Nothing bad can happen to me here...right?
I close my eyes and stumble forward, feeling for the door handles...wait, did that door not have a handle at all?
Well, here we go...I push on the door and open my eyes at the same time.
You find yourself in a maze of twisty passages, all different.
I'm speechless, almost breathless at the sight in front of me. It almost feels futile picking just one door until I remember the number 8 and decide to try that one.
(Nice work fungusmungus)