Time stopped, but their world didn’t. They can’t just pack up, ignore all the other dying kids that can be saved with just a vaccine for Polio. They can’t just go home, to their cozy apartments, warm wives and elite cooking, while others are starving. They can’t go home and wait, they’ll just finish the program – three more weeks to go – and if the end of the world hasn’t come until then, they’ll return home as scheduled.
Joanna poured herself another glass of red wine and sat on the couch, tucking behind her ear some bangs of her hair that escaped her ponytail. The only light in the room came from the computer, which was now entering energy saver mode. On the screen, the e-mail she gotten from her husband, who was a part of the Medicines sans Frontiers, working in Sudan for two months a year, made her lose her balance. She was afraid. She loved life, she loved everything about it; her husband was one of the guardians of life, his job was to postpone death for as long as possible. She was afraid and she was alone. As the computer screen faded to black, Joanna covered her mouth with her hand and sobbed silently.