Fragments into normality

I visited one of the rehab centers today, though “rehab” feels like the wrong word now. It looked like any other classroom—rows of laptops, a whiteboard filled with simple algorithms.

The difference is in their faces. The blankness that once lingered is almost gone. They joke. They argue about syntax. One of them is even preparing to teach a course at a university again.

The fragments of the simulation are still there—occasional slips, misplaced memories—but they no longer dominate. They’re background noise fading into the distance.

Normality isn’t the absence of scars. It’s living with them and still moving forward.