In the beginning we were just friends.
The main door to the hospital is a large revolving door. She was
already inside the door, and the entrance gap was just about to close
as I approached. I increased my pace to barely slip through the closing
gap, and the door's sensor must've thought I was going to be hit, and
the door suddenly stopped. The girl didn't, and she ran into the door
on the opposite side which otherwise would have been out of her way by
then. I apologized to her, and that was our first contact. I thought
about her the rest of the evening, and until the morning. That was day
Back at the hospital, I saw her fighting with the vending
machine. I asked her how her nose was, and made other small talk. I
eventually wound up buying her a Sprite from the other,
non-money-stealing vending machine. That led to an exchange of names;
her name is Cassie. I definitely thought of her the rest of the
evening, well into the morning. That was day two.
She gave me no indication of being interested in me, so I tried to curb
my own interest in her. But when I saw her sitting in a Family Room, my
heart expanded out to her. I wondered why she was in a Family Room
instead of her mom's hospital room. Had something gone bad? I went in
and sat with her. Turns out she was just using the room as a waiting
room while her mom had relatively minor surgery. I sat with her for
hours. We played Nickel Train with the room's domino set. I enjoyed her
company, and I think she enjoyed mine. We played late, past evening,
into the morning. That was day three.
Now, my question for you, Dear Reader: Do you get the sense, at all, that the days above are anything but 24-hour days?
Then why do you try to force the days of Genesis 1, structured very
similarly to the days in my fictional story above, into being something
other than 24-hour days? I think it's because you're trying to force
the text to fit your notions of what it should be, rather than letting it be what it is.