Your tight black short pants, very short pants, cup and hug you butt, you tight and perfect butt. Your legs, lean and smooth, slip into your white gym...shoes. You glance at yourself in the mirror. You like what you see. You look like an athlete, a hot athlete. Your body feels good, fit, healthy, pumped and alive, really alive. As you consider which weight you want to try you hear a noise and I enter the gym. We don’t make eye contact, two strangers in a gym late at night. I move to the weights. I didn't get up right away, instead finding strange comfort in laying onthe soft carpet listening to the faint noises of Bethany leaving forschool. She exchanged a couple of cross sounding words with Sara beforethe door closed, I could faintly hear talk of Friday night but not of thedetails. I was certain that Sara was glad to get rid her.It was another of those moments which left me considering just howincredible my fall from grace had been. Here I was flopped prostrate onthe peach coloured. More

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