It’s a hot white sheen that shimmers across the top of my right shin. It burns there, deep and slow. And every once in awhile flares hot and close to the bone. I see it in my mind’s eye. It is the vision that hurts.
On a night like last night I lie awake. Hoping the pain will cease so I can sleep. I twist the feather comforter into a tight wad . I wrap my legs around it. I bury my face and hands into it. I bear down.
Sometimes the pain is a comfort. A connection to what is lost. Sometimes it makes me wonder why it still hurts so bad. To lose a limb. After 21 years.