Labyrinth

Liz felt like she had been stuck in this maze for days. She didn't even remember what it was she came in for. Luckily she was able to gain sustenance or she didn't know if she would have been able to go on.

She was trying to find her way out of the hell she had found herself in, but the markings on the floor appeared to have been made by a drunk with an axe to grind against her personally. There were signs all over, but she couldn't make sense of them.

It came to her that she was here for her mother, she was here to save her ... something. Aargh! She couldn't remember, and she kept getting distracted by knick knacks, and shiny things along her path. She needed help.

There were people dressed in strange clothing scattered around the maze, working on various things. Liz approached one with a name tag that read Don.

"Excuse me, can you please help me?" her voice was filled with exhaustion. She didn't like asking for help, and the denizen that she had approached seemed a rough sort. "I'm trying to find my way to the exit."

His tone was dismissive, and he didn't make eye contact. "Just follow the arrows." his hand waved vaguely off to one side and he carried on with his task.

That's what I've been doing. Well that was no help. There were others, here and there, wearing the same garish outfits, but she dared not approach after her previous dismissal.

There were signs all over the place, she read some but they were gibberish. PLATSA, ELVARLI, BOAXEL. It was complete nonsense, and it made her more frustrated. She came across what looked like a replica of a normal room, but she wasn't sure if she was imagining it. The books on the shelf just said BOOK, making a mockery of her profession as a literary agent.

She wandered for another period of time, but was no closer to finding her goal. She eventually gathered up her courage and approached another of the strange folk. She told the woman what she was looking for.

"Kallax." was the reply.

"Kallax?" Liz was confused. "What does that mean?"

Answers were not forthcoming, Kallax was the only reply. She was pointed in a direction that lead around a corner. Liz headed over with trepidation. She rounded the bend and was confronted with a cavernous area. Stacked on one side, tens of metres high, were trinkets and things of all sizes.

Liz saw a likely looking section and began to search for her artifact. Tossing aside several that had the label PAX on them, she finally found what she was looking for. KALLAX was printed on the side in bold lettering. Its packaging was bulky and unwieldy and she couldn't move it on her own. Appearing suddenly, one of the workers of this strange place pushed a trolley to her, and helped her load it.

In the next room was the exit, but her path was blocked by a row of the workers in front of the opening. She wasn't initially able to get through, but an offering was enough to secure safe passage. Liz blinked in the bright sunlight as she stepped out. She loaded up her vehicle and drove away.

The Kallax would solve her mothers issue nicely. When she returned home, she upended the box and several dozen pieces fell out, with accompanying screws. Liz looked at the picture on the box, and opened a leaflet that had a series of pictographs. This was going to be a lot of work.

"Damn Ikea!"