Fiona
The hospital lab felt more like a prison than a place of healing. The harsh fluorescent lights washed every corner in a cold, sterile glow, making the space feel oppressive.
The endless smell of chemicals, antiseptics, and medical equipment seems to be all over the place.
Usually, this is where I would often call my safe space, but after several failures in providing a cure for the pack, it was becoming frustrating.
Jason and I had been at it for hours, tirelessly working, each failed test adding more weight to the pile of our mounting frustrations. The pandemic had torn through the pack, leaving us clinging to the desperate hope of finding a cure.
Jason, ever the optimist, was hunched over the microscope, muttering calculations under his breath as though sheer determination
