He ached all over. The months of therapy had put him back in operating condition, but it would be a long time before all the effects of his injuries wore off. He crossed the spartan little efficiency apartment and went into the bathroom, switching on lights as he went. At six o'clock on a winter morning, Washington was still dark.He splashed water into his bleary eyes, brushed his teeth and shaved. He was deeply tanned in winter because he had been recuperating in Florida. Against the tanned skin, the new scars on flank, chest and shoulder were pale pink. There were also older, whiter scars. Before leaving the bathroom he stepped on the scale and noted that he was still about ten pounds below his normal weight. He decided to step up his exercise program at the gym no matter what the damned doctors said and add a few more calories to his diet.He dressed and went downstairs and across the street to the early-opening diner where he usually had breakfast. He ordered ham and eggs and pancakes and hash brown potatoes, deciding to put his higher-calorie regimen into effect immediately.
