Purge – Redux

Fatigued. Seven p.m. Rain. Trudge muddied and sullen into gym. Hungry. Hungry four hour ago and hungrier now. Not eaten. Fasted. Stomach and bowels empty. Brows hung low, furrowed and frowning. Deep breath. No fuel. Deeper breath into vacant cavern at pit of belly. Squat, three hundred and sixty pounds. Dizzy now. Nausea. Nothing to vomit but bile and dusty dry spit. Fall towards cable section. Deep breath. Pull and push. Down low to up high. Tabata protocol for developing punching power. Done. Body spent. Falling to floor. Dream state entered. Hallucinating now. Carry me Lord Lucifer. Embrace me. Mission incomplete. Empty. Cold. Stagger to running track. Neurons misfiring. Skip first. Grab someone. Rotations. Stick. Hard to maintain structure. Vulnerable and suspicious. Beyond hunger. Sprint. Sprint again. Small death, dying. ‘Go home son’, says voice inside head. Hungry. Don’t eat, yet. First purge.

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