His eyelids were creaking in honour of bruised musculature – meat tearing itself apart to be rebuilt stronger around a scaffolding of ache.
She had insisted that the worst was over with – that first big solar hurdle – but he knew better.
Knew the process of reconstruction would leave its mark, take its toll.
There was nothing to be done but to stumble forward and keep his nerve.
To wait for the growing pains to subside.

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