More than a week later and following several operations, the doctors finally began to wind down the medications flowing into Mark enough that he would regain consciousness. In the past week, virtually every feature had been changed using technology and medical techniques that were years ahead of things available in the outside world. Were Mark to leave The Town, no one would suspect that mere days ago he had been a teenaged boy.
"Ah, good morning Mrs. Hawkins," a bright, cheerful male voice called to Mark as his eyes began to flutter open. "Good to see you coming round. I'm Dr. Scheffield, I've been the one overseeing the work on you for the past few days. Here, let me get you something to drink, just sip now..." he added as he placed a straw between Mark's lips.
The straw felt strange... smaller than it should. It felt like his lips were swollen, like they had been after he'd taken a punch to the face from Rick Jervais a few weeks before they'd come to the Town. Mark sipped slowly, welcoming the feeling of cold, crisp water on his dried out throat. When he swallowed, his throat felt raw and hoarse.
"Here, let me get a mirror for you," Dr. Scheffield said. "I'm sure you're dying of curiosity, but I have to tell you that you've been an excellent patient. Your body has responded well to treatment and the results have been very good. Once you've had a look, I can answer your questions. Here, take a look," he finished as he held up a small mirror.
But what kind of woman was reflected back at Mark?
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