Morning Exercise

[Venty]

Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk.

Charon Marston let his foot drop onto the wooden floor wordlessly. And for a moment, he didn't raise it back up. Then...

Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk.

The doctor had said, back then, that doing these exercises would keep his thighs healthy. Get him used to the new legs, figure out how to use them properly. Get past old habits.

Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk.

He hadn't been a fan of it back then. It was a waste of time, making him focus on something he didn't want to think about. It felt like he was being treated like some helpless child. Like he couldn't do something as possible as bringing his legs up.

Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk.

He could've stopped years ago. His body was used to having metal legs. He was used to it. But something about the exercise just helped in a different way.

Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk.

Working hard hours in space and in atmosphere, mining away at unused and forgotten worlds with nothing but a pickaxe and time left him exhausted. It made what was left of his bones feel like lead, and the prosthetics that kept him walking like obsidian. Certainly didn't help his lungs or heart, that was for sure.

Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk.

Everyday, he woke up and did these exercises before he left. Because something about it helped work off the exhaustion of yesterday and the temptation of going back to sleep. It gave him a schedule he didn't used to have. Something to follow when all he wanted to do was drop.

Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk.

It was just something he had to do now. Not because he was told to, but because he wanted to. Because it helped him wake up, get ready and face the day. The alarm clock his body needed.

Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk.

If only his legs didn't make so much noise doing it.