Breaking The Rules

I before E except after C, unless I’m seeing too much ceiling from under my eiderdown. I turn my eyes in disbelief to my neighbor Keith, who at this moment is receiving eight heifers of various heights and weight. Having been neither seized in some heist nor had any profits forfeited, they are feisty beasts. A brawn of weightlifters, beings made of veiled skeins of protein, caffeine and bulging veins, takes them away, no receipts involved. Afterward, the men reign over steins of beer at their leisure. Weird that it should be so hard to relieve the stress of thievery.

From Guest Contributor Cheryl Snell

Self Help

Whenever he did curls on the bench, he had to resist the urge to look at himself in the mirror. He was always disappointed.

Everything he tried, varying his routine, increasing his dosages, upping his protein intake, failed to have the desired results. He'd even cut back his work hours because being here was more important.

Barbara didn't understand. His parents didn't understand. His professors definitely didn't understand.

Every second of his existence was a battle against his oxidizing cells as they gradually lost the ability to replicate.

The gym was not an addiction. It was a fight against oblivion.