Long, disorienting seconds passed in the aftermath. The pain hit me like a summer rain. There was a second of nothing at all, I realized it was starting, and then I was treated to buckets of it.
Heh, that’s a good metaphor.
Very relatable.
I writhed, my ribs screaming in agony, trying to find some position where the pain would be less and failing. I felt like a hot poker was being shoved into the spot on my ribs where I’d taken the hit the previous night.
Owww.
“Hey, hey,” Grue said, “You’re okay. You’re in one piece.”
Are you?
…is Mannequin?
I shook my head, unable to catch my breath. Each time I inhaled, it seemed to double the pain.
She’s in one piece, yes, but unharmed, no. Besides, there’s not even a single bit of super-valuable pirate loot here, what the hell?
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