The Leap

“Please call someone! I am trapped inside the National Art Museum and my phone is ab- -” You whimpered as the battery of your phone died.

How did you get lost in the museum you have known since you were a little girl?

Your hands tremble, but little by little, fear transforms into excitement. There’s a new exhibit on the Mayan culture and your heritage is calling. Your grandma always told you you had to learn about your ancestors, but you never made the time.

Today you miscalculated your museum itinerary and got distracted by the natural history section. It is great you have this extra time to get to the Mayan exhibit!

“You’re such a nerd” You giggle and smile as the view of the museum at night becomes mesmerizing and infatuating.

Every hall is semi-dark with only security lights on; not a soul to be seen nor heard, and every step echoes into the distance. As you venture deep into the museum exhibition room #4, moonlight rays filter through the windows, revealing intricate patterns in the reflection of the protective screens and their surroundings. The room has a kaleidoscopic element to it now.

You look at yourself in the reflection of the glass protecting a Mayan artifact and your heart feels like a fizzy drink, bubbling and effervescent. How did you get lost in the museum you have known since you were a little girl? The reflection doesn’t answer back, of course.

The fun and solo games get interrupted by the thought of how it is highly unusual you haven’t seen a guard. What day is it? Why are you alone?

Thinking deeply about it, unlikely situations like this are typical for you. You are now old enough to notice that strange things happen to you on your birthday… every time. Let’s be specific here: strange things happen every time you celebrate your birthday. You were born on leap day, and it has been a while since you decided you would only celebrate on leap year, and leap day only. To keep some sort of sanity, of course.

Without overthinking that guards are nowhere to be seen, this is the perfect birthday gift after you have forgotten about your own birthday. You enjoy art, sketching at the museum and just learning about interesting things. This place is yours tonight. Enjoy.

Something feels magical and soothing. Almost like an aurora borealis, except you’re perfectly comfortable and you don’t need to freeze your ass off to enjoy the view. You feel like dancing. And singing.

It is as if you were giving a cappella concert. Your voice reverberates across the room and bounces to and off the protected artifacts. The visual display of kaleidoscopic colors is now mirrored with acoustic fractals. You can only imagine the math behind those, of course.

After a few minutes, you stop with contentment. “This room is amazing,” You hear your voice in your head while you continue to enjoy the light display in silence.

You finally stop to contemplate different items in the exhibition. Beautiful flasks made of clay, wood, and bone. Jade and obsidian statues. All these Mayan artifacts on display grab your attention. 

The room seems to grow bigger and bigger with each step. More artifacts. More information plaques. 

You continue walking through the room with the dim, colorful lights adding layers of mystery to your imagination. Some facts about the Mayan scientific knowledge are outstanding: their precise calendar, their mathematics, their pyramids and temples… Everything is fascinating. You start creating small stories about their day-to-day and their beliefs.

The big stone calendar is the highlight of the room.

“The Mayan calendar is terrific. And confusing.” You quietly thought, but suddenly started reading out loud:

“There were multiple calendars the Mayans kept track of, including a solar year of 365 days with no leap years or leap days. the Mayans kept track of the days by groups of four years, which they called the year of the north, south, east, and west. The days did not start at the same time. In the Eastern years, they began at sunrise, and the following years at noon, at sunset, and finally at midnight.”

“This means every year they went off by approximately a quarter of a day.” Overwhelmed and confused, you’re frozen in the exhibit room #4.

In your attempt to grasp the concept of the Mayan leap year, you turn to your left and notice a beautiful mirror. It is not like the common mirror you have at home. This is a black mirror made of obsidian stone, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly glow and you can see yourself, or more accurately, a shadow of yourself.

“Mirrors were believed to fix or retain images and certain vital qualities of the deceased.”

You reach out to touch it, hypnotized. The protective glass dissolves like magic and as your fingers invade the obsidian mirror, you feel a strange sensation washing over you.

You blink and see yourself in front of the mirror, but something is different. Before you could notice what is off, you’re interrupted.

People walk into the museum and you panic. You need to hide or try to think about a story. You will get in trouble if they think you purposely stayed overnight.

Before you can hide, a guard notices the glass of the mirror is gone and calls on the radio. Your hands are trembling but you have to come clean.

“It was an accident! I got lost in this maze and I couldn’t get out in time!” You cried.

The guard ignored you and it makes you feel even worse. Before you can say anything else, the security manager rushes into the room and stares at the missing glass. You’re perplexed they aren’t arresting you.

As the guard and his boss make notes and start walking out of the room, you walk towards them only to realize a barrier of some sort is in front of you. You realize the colorful lights are gone. Something has changed. Then you realize it is still dark. Somehow it is darker than last night. How come?

When they leave the room, you turn around and see your reflection again. Like a kaleidoscope, it is you, a million times. Fractals of your shape in and out. You are lost in a labyrinth of twisted corridors and endless reflections, each one leading you further away from home. Desperate to escape, you search for a way out, but the mirror seems to taunt you with its endless depths.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into years. Tired of trying to find an exit, you resort to a place inside the mirror that holds only one reflection. No more fractals. Just one…

“How did you get lost in the museum you have known since you were a little girl?”



“I never left, of course.”