Adrian and his dad trudged out the house with his dad wiping away tears of mirth while his son marched sullenly behind him. They arrived at Jacobs shed and entered. Adrian looked around clearly fascinated at all the odd bits and pieces his father worked on which in turn kept their house and farm running.

As Adrian moved around inspecting the contents of the shed, he came across a case with a scratched out emblem and moved on interested more in the shelves with wickedly sharp farming implements. Leaned in the corner with other bits of trash was a powerful looking bow with many strings. Adrian yearned to take it up and examine it yet he held himself back. As had been pounded into his head since he was old enough to listen. His father's shed was a dangerous place he wasn't allowed to touch anything that wasn't handed to him. But now standing in what was a museum to the remnants of world that once was Adrian found it increasingly difficult to listen.

His dad cleared his throat and Adrian pulled back as if burned. He'd been reaching for a flatboard that looked interesting without even realising it. Adrian turned with a sheepish smile on his face to find his dad holding out a heavy satchel, heavy because of it's sagging bottom and a hint of a reproachful look mixed with a smile of understanding.

“We have what we need, lets go before you blow us up.”

Adrian was about to ask his father if truly something in the shed was powerful enough to blow them up and what it was. He was hustled out of the shed before he could even attempt to.

Outside they walked back to the course where his father threw the heavy satchel on the ground with a heavy thud, then zipped it open to rummage through. Adrian tried to peek inside and saw his father pulling out bracelets and tiny weights, not at all the hulking weights his old man usually trained with. Not knowing how he did it, Adrian watched amazed as his father arranged the bracelets and weights by what he assumed was well, weight in a straight line. There were no numbers denoting their heaviness.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Wordlessly, Adrian's father pointed to the end of the line and Adrian approached. There were two bangles and a pair of the smaller ringed weights. Adrian bent to pick them up and nearly broke something. They were heavy, unbelievably so. He looked suspiciously at the weights and back to his father wondering if some sort of a mix up had happened.

Almost seeming to read his son's mind, Jacob smiled, “Nope no mistake here, those are the lightest of the bunch. You slip the bangles on and lift the weights. If you can lift it above your head ten times today, we call it a day and I teach you how to really do it tomorrow. Finish up while I start dinner.”

As Jacob packed up the rest of the weights and made for the house the called over his shoulder, “Remember Adrian, just ten and that's enough.”

Adrian watched his fathers broad back as he walked away and he swore to complete fifty lifts over his head. At thirty seven with the falling sun's ray kissing the top of their valley, Adrian sweat soaked and panting dropped the weights and shrugged off the bangles. The thought of picking the weights to carry them back inside caused Adrian's arm to spasm.

'Tomorrow. Yeah tomorrow.'

With that Adrian had a hasty shower and rushed inside for more divine food. His father said nothing about his staying out till late. The instant Adrian said good night to his father and his head hit the pillow he was out like the lightbulb he had forgotten to turn off that his father had to come up and flip off.

Adrian awoke the next day feeling sore all over, he moved to get up and froze. He couldn't move his arms. A concentrated effort saw Adrian twitching his arms that sent pins and needles shooting through the limb. With an effort that saw him groaning and gritting his teeth, Adrian forced himself to a sitting position and struggled upwards. Once he'd compared his thin arms to the delicacies that were noodles, now they felt like one. The act of opening his door and stumbling his way downstairs left Adrian's arm burning and a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Adrian made it downstairs and to the kitchen to find his father tucking into a full roasted chicken for breakfast and a helping of rice. In front of Adrian's seat at the table was a steaming bowl of rice porridge with a straw sticking out.

With his arms held stiffly at his side, Adrian walked to the table and sat.

“So how's the arms?”

Adrian answered with an obnoxiously loud slurp of his straw that saw him sputtering out porridge when he pulled too strongly. Over his sputtering his fathers loud laughter shook the kitchen.