I tap my pencil nervously as I reread the same question over again:

**What trophic level is a herbivore? **

I glance around the room, hoping maybe a poster could give me a hint.

Hopelessly, I scrap through my memory. I know I studied this…I just can’t _remember_.

Before my hand commits to guessing, my eyes catch on a small script written on the desk.

In small writing, so minuscule, only the hopeless could identity, it is written:

_Seconds pass, and still here you remain. Seconds leave, and still here you will sustain. _

The first word ignites a rush of memory within me.

“Of course it’s the second!” I whispered triumphantly to myself.

I scribble the answer with a weight leaving my chest.

How strange it is that some words answer our questions when they were written for a different intention.