Reformer

"Footbar up," Sarah said softly. She didn’t look like a drill sergeant, but her eyes caught every micro-flicker of a muscle.

Elias closed his eyes. He pressed. The springs groaned—a heavy, metallic resistance that mirrored the stubbornness in his own spine. For weeks, he had fought the machine, trying to bully it with brute strength, only to end up exhausted and misaligned. reformer

He lay back, feeling the headrest cradle his skull. He hooked his arches over the cold metal bar. "Footbar up," Sarah said softly

The studio was silent, save for the rhythmic shush-shush of the carriage gliding over the rails. he had fought the machine