Chapter 33: Pablo is the problem.
"We are here." The driver said as the car came to a stop.
"Then go, Pablo, be quick." Joseph said, which made Pablo look back at him as he opened the door.
"You’re not coming?"
"No, my size is probably XS with all the weight I lost, shoe size is 41." Joseph said as he closed his eyes and leaned back. "Go until then, I’ll snooze a bit."
"Uh, okay." Pablo said as he closed the door, leaving behind Joseph, who was still so tired even though he was sleeping more than ten hours.
He felt like he was in a loop, where this tiredness is never going to go away, even though he slept well, ate well... like it was a curse on him... or maybe just the mental wounds in his head, in his body, that carved deep within him.
Doing nothing for ten straight years, just sitting in the cell and that’s it. He didn’t work out to have some muscle, to keep himself in a good condition, not let it rot in, but he couldn’t do it, not with bread and water which was sometimes even rotten.
If I move too much, I will be fucked, my body is weak... if I eat or drink too much, fucked and my eyes still hurt like shit... yeah.
"Hey driver, what is your name?" He asked and he immediately looked at the mirror.
"Zola, sir." His voice was firm, the complete opposite of what he thought it would be, but with one look at him, he seemed like somebody who had experience.
"It’s Joseph, and call up Pablo to buy me sunglasses, dark tinted ones."