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PREVIEW
... another nightmare—this time featuring a broom-wielding moon chasing me through the cosmos for unknown reasons—still clinging to my skin like sweat. Whatever, I am long used to them anyway; they are working in my favor, waking me up at the right time every day.
5:33 AM.
Good.
Rolling out of bed, I washed my face, the cold water shocking the sleep from my bones. Then, the real pain began: my daily "warm-up."
100 push-ups. 100 sit-ups. 100 squats. A 10-kilometer run. ...
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