The sun beat down on her head, warming her black hair through until its touch was almost unbearable on her scalp. Meriwa wiped her forehead with the bend of her wrist, meandering slowly towards the beach.
Her back and thighs ached from working in the glasshouses all morning – and all the days previous – but it was a good ache. Well earned, she felt. It reminded her that the body she was in was definitely hers, strange though it still was sometimes, and that she was working hard.
It helped that it was a good distraction.
She woke early, ate whatever she could get her hands on, and went to work. Cleaning, sorting pots and seeds, watering, and tending. Every night she fell asleep under the stars, exhaustion carrying her off almost as soon as she closed her eyes.
Every day, she became a
