He was convinced there was no egress from this nightmare of corridors. Minutes ago Mehtab had stood on the roof, overlooking a yard encircled by hoarding and floodlights, and could actually see the way out to the desert; but naturally it had changed when he descended the stairs.

Finding the path out was his goal in this game show where the building’s layout changed with his every move; he’d assumed that he could play and win the money to pay for Rika’s heart, but after several days his supplies were gone and he was pushing the point of defeat.

With no other option, he followed instincts honed by days of wandering and observing the house’s reactions. There were times when he truly believed he was guessing; nonetheless, he finally reached the entry hall, where only the pale crescent moon waited to greet him;

in its distraction, the world had forgotten.

This flash fiction in 150 words was was crafted for the M3 blog’s Flash in the Pan