Eternal Maze

The transparent maze had no visible walls, yet the rhinoceros walked the same square every day. A musician on the machine played four notes at each corner, and the small observer outside recorded another failed escape. ‘There is no door,’ the rhinoceros said. On the thousandth circuit, the observer moved the sign marked EXIT from one corner to another.

The rhinoceros followed automatically—then stopped. The path had never been blocked; it had only been repeated until it felt like law. He took one step where no note instructed him. The musician missed a beat.

The machine complained. Nothing prevented the second step. By sunset they were all outside, although no wall had fallen. Behind them, the eternal maze kept running perfectly, empty.