Trepidation captured it. It captured him. No, it captured her. She waited for him to provide security access along the hallway. She could have sworn she heard some kind of music playing faintly. It possessed a tune that reminded her of that song she thought she remembered. Was it the one that she used to play frequently before she relocated? The one when she lived in a different state. A different state all together. She then realized the melody resembled more the rhythm of an animal she once heard in those woods. The bright woods darkened by the forgetfulness of time. Her passing through time. It'll come to you.
She was back in the hallway. The noise she heard was no longer musical, but the sound of the door's lock being opened in a slow and mechanical reticence. She pulled on the handle and lifted her face in expectation of her appointment and noticed it was someone else entirely. She asked them where he was and the administrator offered the words, "I don't know where he is." It'll come to you.
Another body entered the hallway as it began to fill with more bodies. This third person attempted to capture a glance at her face and the woman who has been waiting responded with half a smile and raised her eyes up to the fluorescents. It'll come to you.
She turned around. There was another way around the back. She walked and not too fast. Taking her time to allow it come to her. Where was he? She had spent her whole life pretty much waiting for this moment. This moment to be of use. Usage drained slowly out of her aging body as she passed along the back hallway. Trying to find a way around. Through time. Through her life. For this moment. To be of use. Usage. Draining away. Not as slowly. It'll come to you.
- Max Stoltenberg