13
After several follow-up eye appointments, another knock came at her door.
She was met by a chipper woman with a high, blonde ponytail, smiling broadly and positively bouncing with excitement.
So they do let people have hair ties.
Compared to the staid and almost robotic doctors, she appeared childlike. This was the kind of woman who had been a cheerleader in high school. A welcome contrast.
“Get excited!” the woman said, grinning wide enough to show off her perfectly white teeth. “It’s time for you to enter the Community!”
Sara shifted uncomfortably. A wave of unexpected trepidation washed over her. She wanted this, of course—companionship, other people, a little variety in her days. Sunlight. A purpose.
But the hospital room felt safe now. She had a routine she understood, if on
