My ears tracked the lonely music as long as I could. It was a welcome reprieve from the ever-present music of desert fauna that one would normally expect in the wastes of Mexico. The moon hovered in the sky, pleasantly full and illuminating the land quite well… save the ground which remained hidden beneath a blanket of fog.

Not long after the last strains of mariachi had faded behind me, I stopped. I listened cautiously, not even wishing to disturb the air with a breath.

That same forlorn strumming was now coming from ahead of me.

I tentatively picked up the pace. The shack rose from the mist as it had before, with the hidden mariachi continuing his art. A sign on the wall I hadn’t noticed before said simply ‘Da Capo’. Kneeling beside the outer wall, I waved away fog to see the small crushed plants and disturbed sand indicating my previous resting place.

How did I get back here?

Panic gave my weary frame a burst of energy, and I ran… The music faded, then strengthened once again… I was trapped.