Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #22 January 2016 | Page 37

deeds that make a person a person. I don’t need to
gather them together; they work as clues to show I’m
on the right path. My goal is near.
Loved or hated, the person I’m looking for is
in trouble. I never ask what brought them to this point,
what drove them to this edge. The forest of faceless
figures has ended, and I’m finally at the scene of the
accident.

People form a steady current around me, as
if it were their purpose to prevent me from moving
further. I move my arms to push them away, but my
hands go right through them. They are an illusion. I
know that.
Can it be hard to find what you are searching
for if you know exactly what it is but not its location?
I’ve done this maybe hundreds of times, but the crowd
is never the same. I don’t recognise any faces, they are
blurred and impossible to make out.
Do they gather around me on purpose? I’ve
never actually thought about where they come from,
but every time I start my search they are there, staring
at me without any eyes and turning towards me
without any faces. I have no power over them.
Horrible as they may seem, they are no harm
to me. Their presence is simply bothersome. I’m
trying to find a person in this crowd, and the faceless
mass helps it hide perfectly.
Things are much more real around here; I have
to climb tables and move chairs under the watchful
eye of the faceless ones. The person I am searching
for is the only one who isn’t looking at me. But there
is another trap I need to avoid before I find the right
one.
When I see him first, he