He stepped forward with care, peering around the corner of each alcove he approached.
The air smelled of damp rock and mold, and fog began creeping up from the flagstones underfoot.
He had to hurry, had to escape this stone maze.
My piece for the weekly Three Line Tales prompt by Sonya of Only 100 Words, in which you write 3 lines based on or relating to that week’s prompt photo.
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