Forget for a second that it is all made up and that it does not matter. You now want to know whether they will find each other, where that will happen, whether there is any hope for a happy ending. What else should you do with all this otherwise?
The tension starts rising and it’s time too, because otherwise the garden will shut, they will not get off the island, the last ferry will leave, the hotel will be closed and there will no longer be any trains. Thus some haste is needed.
He hurries his steps to trot, a little faster now, one path after another in and out, back and forth to a new passage which perhaps will bring him closer to the core. She slows down, on the contrary, to keep track and not lose the overview. She is efficient with her feelings.
But before we go any further I should not forget to explain what the shadow stands for, it will not reveal itself by itself. The shadow is the darkness that without the man and the woman could never become an empty black space. A hole wherein you can disappear in your own print, obscure, untraceable. Where you really become invisible and untouchable. This is dangerously attractive, a black island on which to remain, out of the light, without the sea, without the mountain, no garden or labyrinth, without pain.
And another thing: suppose you want to hide, but you are afraid of the dark, the shadow is thus not the ideal place. If someone takes a step aside, you unwillingly displace yourself into the harsh light. But then how can you live independently, or do you just plunge yourself blindly into the adventure, in full light, nothing no profile?
There are stones in the garden, some larger than yourself, and smaller, placed on top of one another. There are even raked pebbles here and there, like waves of the sea. In the middle there is a flat stone. That could be an ideal place. You transform into a toad and crawl underneath on one side. She, turned into a cross-spider, crawls under from the other end. And when the two finally meet, in the middle of the deepest shadow, the toad kisses the spider. That tickles and is smooth wet, and does not bode well, though this time the profiles match alarmingly well.