Goddess No More

She looks like she’s aged 10 years, Harris thought, looking at his bed-ridden wife. He put a hand to his own face, bruised and swollen. I’m no movie star myself.

Dr. Tzin-Zin sat in a chair at the bedside talking quietly to Megan. Harris noted the gray in Megan’s formerly dark brown hair. Circles blackened the real estate under her brown eyes, and sad lines pulled down the corners of her once-proud lips.

Megan shook her head. “No,” she said. “I can’t do it. I won’t!”

Dr. Tzin-Zin nodded slowly. She peered at Megan through large, thick, round glasses. Tzin-Zin’s shiny black hair, shot with streaks of silver, fell even with her jaw line.

“I completely understand your refusal to use your abilities,” Tzin-Zin said. “I can’t even imagine the horror of last night.

“But to begin using your powers again will begin — will accelerate the healing process. In small ways to start. You must take that first step.”