Meeting Cassie

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 one.

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?

No?

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.