Instinctively touching her back again, she felt coarse feathers bristling through her skin, like the acupuncture needles she once reached up to feel. That had been weird, but nothing compared to this. She pulled on one nascent shaft and felt her skin peel towards it. It was stuck, but she got the feeling that if she pulled a little harder, it would pop, and come out in her fingers.
In the mirror, she shrugged her shoulder blades and the feathers, black - highlighting the opalescence of her pink skin - blossomed. They grew, forming wings, knocking toiletries from shelves and slamming like a fist against the window pane.
It would open far enough, she decided.