Today held one of the most frightening moments I have experienced since we adopted the new calendar. I wasn't afraid in the same way I was during the war, though. The fear of death and loss is much different than the fear experienced after a loss has happened.
I should probably be writing about my experiences with the patients, but this ties into that.
I lost Danna today.
Or at least I thought I had. She wasn't in the dorm room when I woke up in the morning. Admittedly, I overslept. Despite having worked in this place for so long, the room has no window, no streaming sun to wake me. These places were built for the blind, after all: we came later.
I found Danna, though, after some frantic searching, running about the halls in my night clothes. I must have been quite the sight. She was, almost unsurprisingly, giggling in the room of that woman I saw a few days earlier, perched on the bed listening to a story, I can only presume.
After peeking in to the room I decided not to interrupt. I left Danna there with the woman. God, what was her name? Did I even ask?
I know I didn't trust her that first meeting, but obviously Danna sees something in her. Maybe Danna's found an acceptable role in this world. Maybe this world needs more people like Danna in it.