I reach the end of the hallway and grab at the corner with my right hand. I let my momentum carry myself around it. My sneakers describe an arc as they skid into the wall of the new length of corridor. I kneel and turn. Now with both sets of fingers wrapped around the edge, I carefully push my eyes back around the corner to get a look at my pursuer.

Sweat drips down my forehead.

I can see nothing, but I can hear footsteps. I decide they’re coming closer.

Behind me is another long corridor. I can see a door near the end on the left. Maybe this door will be unlocked. I come to my feet and start running.

In flight, it is easy to focus. The rhythm of my heart and the rhythm of my feet are the tempo with which my brain keeps functioning. I have found no exit thus far, but my body hasn’t betrayed me either.

The hallway passes in slow motion. Without any doors or signs to serve as points of reference, it’s as if I am a cartoon running infinitely past stock imagery. Ahead, the door I thought I saw proves to be a mirage, evaporating within seconds. Still, I have no other direction to go.

I can see nothing, but I can hear footsteps.

Now I am approaching an end to the passageway. Another t-junction, just like the last. With a burst of new energy, I decide to try left this time.

I reach the end of the hallway and grab at the corner with my left hand. I let my momentum carry myself around it. My sneakers describe an arc as they skid into the wall of the new length of corridor. I kneel and turn. Now with both sets of fingers wrapped around the edge, I carefully push my eyes back around the corner to get a look at my pursuer.

I can no longer hear anyone approaching, but I can see something. It’s coming closer.

I am in another corridor of considerable gravity. I run for it.

Back in flight, it is easy to focus again. My temples throb and my feet slap at the institutional flooring. I can still think clearly, though I have found no exit thus far. Adrenaline flows through me.

The hallway passes in slow motion. Without any doors or signs to serve as points of reference, it’s as if I am a cartoon running infinitely past stock imagery. Ahead, the door I thought I saw proves to be a mirage, evaporating within seconds. Still, I have no other direction to go.

I can hear no one approaching, but when I look back I can see something.

Finally, I am sure I see something ahead. This hallway has a four-way intersection. I feel fear snaking its way through my gut. There are no signs or doors to give any clue to the exit. Instead of turning, this time I barrel ahead.

In flight, it is easy to focus. The rhythm of my heart and the rhythm of my feet are the tempo with which my brain keeps functioning. I have found no exit thus far, but my body hasn’t betrayed me either.

Without any doors or signs to serve as points of reference, the hallway passes in slow motion. I have no other direction to go.

I reach the end of the hallway and grab at the corner with my right hand. I let my momentum carry myself around it. My sneakers describe an arc as they skid into the wall of the new length of corridor. I kneel and turn. Now with both sets of fingers wrapped around the edge, I carefully push my eyes back around the corner to get a look at my pursuer.

Sweat drips down my forehead.

I can see nothing, but I can hear footsteps. I decide they’re coming closer.