She was standing in a long line, in a gray corridor, in a drab old building. When it was somebody’s turn, they said a person’s name and they found out if the person was among the killed.
She imagined she was waiting for a doctor and that made her happy for a few seconds. Oh, how she wished she was waiting in line for a doctor.
When people got the news, they left with their back to everyone, continued down the corridor to the exit. Those that found out their loved one was still alive did everything to hide the fact. Maybe out of respect, but possibly out of fear. However, she could tell who got the bad news by the shape of their back.
She was clutching her shopping bag. Would it make sense to go grocery shopping later?