She was just hours away from the
seven year mark. Nervous juts of the head and the tick behind her eye acting as
stopwatch.
Internal debate over the exact
starting point had consumed her- from the embryonic phase or birth - had raged
for so long, before a silence said that only when she was in the world could
count.
Though every cheek cell, fingernail,
eyelash, bended knee, rusty elbow and palm print had its own rate of turnover,
each too was building to the same moment, concentration straining to unite in a
final entity. Brand new. Fresh start. Resurrection.
