Time
It is time. I start on my journey alone, wandering aimlessly through a maze of hallways with doors leading off to some unknown destination. The walls are covered in meaningless posters and notices. The ceilings are low and feel like they are pushing down on my shoulders with the weight of the world. Fragments of haunting music drift down the hall with me, a different instrument picking up the same tune every few feet. The rhythm keeps time with the beating of my heart. A voice breaks through the lingering echoes, clear and strong. The cacophony dies out as I wind through the jumble of walls, doors, and halls ignoring all the possible entries to another world as I follow the voice. Though the words are not understandable, the feeling of the music is. At last I find its creator. Through the rectangular glass cutout in the heavy door I spy a beautiful maiden dressed in a white lace gown. She is singing to me, inviting me in. I enter, all my attention on this other worldly creature before me. The austere square room offers no distraction, not that I am tempted to look away from the beauty coveting my gaze. A lone piano stands erect in the corner, the keys moving of their own accord. Suddenly the woman stops her song, stares deep into my eyes, and I just know. It is time.