Prologue: JoshuaA Chapter by Jordyn A. RuhterJoshua threw his hands on to the floor, swinging his body into a handstand. The already tight black tank top stretched even further, leaving a printed tattoo clearly visible on his right forearm. "Hey Aero, bring it in," called Joshua's athletic trainer, who happened to be leaning on the gym wall. Joshua's bare feet reutrned to Earth and he walked over to the woman, a small smile on his lips. "You know my name's not Aero, Kathleen. Now what's up?" He asked, a small laugh escaping his lips. Kathleen smiled, her bright white teeth showing. "It's not my fault you've a tattoo of the word Air. Better than me calling you Air-Head," she laughed herself before regaining composure. "Any who, you're done for the day. I want you to be rested for competition Saturday. Go home, eat, rest, and be here at five A.M. on Saturday morning. Ciao!" she left him there, walking into an office in the corner of the gym. Joshua raised an eyebrow and wiped sweat off of his forehead, away from the damp sandy hair. The eighteen year old walked to the men's locker room, desperate to take a shower when the uneven bars caught his eye. It had been a long time since he'd used them, the last inccident resulting in an abulance being called. The special chalk was still out from the female's use and someone had left their grips behind. Shocked to find the grips fit him perfectly, Joshua dusted his hands with the chalk, took a stance, and ran at the lowest bar. Grapping it perfectly he smiled, releasing the pent up breath he'd held. As he flew to the higher bar, Kathleen came out of her office and saw him. "Joshua!" she screeched, running to the bars. Joshua's concentration was broken and he missed the bar, falling to the padded ground. Before hitting with full force, a gust of wind swept him up and deposited him in a field seconds later. © 2011 Jordyn A. RuhterAuthor's Note
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2 Reviews Added on December 14, 2010 Last Updated on January 3, 2011 AuthorJordyn A. RuhterIDAboutI am different and I openly admit it. Why be like everyone else; a zombie in which our opinions are nothing but dust in the wind? Where our differences are ridiculed until the invinsible force that is.. more..Writing
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