In real time, you still might meet a friend for breakfast, and take the dog for a walk, and do a little laundry, and go to the bank. But while you are doing all of these things, you are still waiting.
In real time, sometimes the news is about things happening around the empty space, the space that should hold the news you are waiting for.
In real time, you wake up to no answers and you go to bed to no answers, and in between you talk to people about how strange and awful it is.
In real time, you think there should be something you can do to help, but there is truthfully almost nothing.
In real time, prayers feel so, so very small.