Built like a brick shithouse, as they used to say. The lad noticed the extensive tattoos adorning both arms, the enormous chest fuzzed with hair, a large scar on the man's thick neck. He bounded up with surprising swiftness for his size and stood massaging his left arm with his right. He grunted with each push upwards, switching after ten to repeat with the other arm. As the lad watched, the man began to do it one armed. But then, he knew that before he got caught.īeside the furthest bed there was a tall, well-muscled shaven headed man dressed only in boots and jeans doing press ups. He knew with a sinking certainty he was going to go crazy shut up in here 20 hours a day. The door was slammed shut behind him.Ī sparsely furnished space, enough for two staggered beds, a few small items of furniture, a sink, and a small barred window letting in a pitiful amount of daylight. His eyes adjusted to the slightly dim light. The lad walked through the forbidding doorway.
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