Story of Bob

9: A New Beginning( Man on a Mission- Part 1)

Exercise session began. The male inmates were already assigned into groups and each guard was monitoring them ensuring that none who broke out of prison.

Each group was divided by ten people. Some were doing pushups, some were jogging on the treadmills, others were skipping rope. The rest were either doing pull ups or were in the boxing ring, testing each other's strength and dominance levels.

Every twenty minutes, the male inmates switched sections.

As for the female inmates, they were busy doing yoga and callisthenics. And the same applied to them in terms of the 20 minute time interval.

Gym session lasted for three hours, from eleven to the thirteenth hour of the day, maybe fourteenth.

Bob was really struggling with exercise since he wasn't used to it. It had been the first time in years ever since as formerly, he was a cricketer, a bowler to be exact. Each part of exercise became gradually more strenuous and he was the Victoria Falls by the time gym session ended. But he did not allow the pain, stress nor the walking figures of hourglass forms distract him.

As for Winston, he was concentrating on pull ups, pushups with minimal effort and was panting hard while jogging on the treadmill with a water bottle in his left hand.

When the session was over, the male inmates were swiping their foreheads, some were drinking their last remainder of water from their bottles, some were carrying their radios listening to a variety of music, some reggae, some hiphop and rap.

The female inmates were bending over, panting for breath, untying their hair in order to cool themselves off.

Both genders were escorted to their respective bathrooms by the guards then were handed over by the wardens, male and female to their cells.

During this whole process, the male and female inmates were chatting amongst themselves, talking about mundane things. Winston called, 'Hey, Bob, come here for a minute'.

'What?', Bob asked with a quizzical look on his face.

'Do you know how to tap into your greatest potential?', asked Winston

'No. I know how to set goals and get focused', Bob replied

'Open your hand'

'What is it?'

'I have a gift for you'

'Okay'

Reluctantly, Bob stretched his arm and opened his palm ready to receive it.

Winston slid out a book and placed it in Bob's palm.

'Hide it in your shirt, the guards are very strict with items us inmates possess, the worst part they have police dogs, German shepherds and Huskies to specify', Winston warned.

He locked eye contact with Bob, sending him a message which had no need to be spoken by the human tongue: Don't tell anyone.

Fires of curiosity ignited within the soul of Bob, tempting him to open the book and take a sneak peek, similar to the urges Pandora had to open the demonic vessel sent by the thunder god of Greece, the sister in law to the disobedient fire bearing Titan.

The day ended and the full moon took the throne of the heavens once more following the daily wheel of light and darkness.

Bob was stuck in his claustrophobic cell, reflecting upon his past while staring into space while being aware of the unpredictable presence of the authoritarian prison warden.

'Lights out at ten!', the prison wardens yelled.

The inmates, male and female alike, began preparing to sleep and turn out the lights.

At ten, all turned out the lights. As for Bob, he was staring at the chipping ceiling, observing each drip of water descend towards the stone cold floor in the dark, listening to the howling breeze that rattled the metal cell doors and could feel the hard form of his bed distributing across his aching, strained form.

When the clock struck midnight, he closed his eyes, visualising his quest for freedom, absolution of sin and restoration of mankind then wept himself to sleep at the thought of being put to death.

Saturday morning, at half past eight, Bob grabbed the book from the table and began taking a glance at the first page.

Everything changed when Bob touched the book.