I had no sense of direction, of purpose, of time. I wandered and sampled and observed and wandered. I swapped and ate and hunted and fucked and swappe....At some point — decades? centuries? — after I first left home, I actually became homesick. I tried to find my way back to my tribe in the hill country. But it was hopeless. Which tribe? Which hill country? It’s even possible that I found my home and didn’t realize it. There was no one in any of the tribes that I knew; no one in any of the tribes. Tears were running down my face. I felt like a cow being milked as well as his fingers probing every crevice of my mouth. Pulling his hand off my nuts, he grabbed the back of my head and pulled back aggressively. I was looking up at the ceiling as he removed his fingers from my mouth and rubber them all over my face. Drying my saliva on my own face. That's my little gurl he said. There is no way to describe the humiliation I felt. My saliva all over my face, Mark smiling at my predicament. Once. With a sigh, another false front of bravery you open the door and your umbrella, scurry across the sidewalk and cross an invisible boundary of the building. The numbness in your stomach returns, your eyes widen, and as you enter the building’s lobby your mind returns once again to anxious uncertainty. Head held high you walk confidently towards the elevator, a myriad of questions running through your mind all at once. Can love be found first by the heart and only afterwards by the eye? Can you. I didn’t understand why there would be a statue but no other decorations. In all of the movies and TV shows I had seen when a vault was involved, the inside of the vault was always purely functional. There were never any decorations other than possibly some artwork being stored inside.I looked around the staircase and saw more doors. The hallway continued around a corner. It made me wonder just how big this place was. I had to be careful. If this place was as big as Hayden’s story suggested it.