One, two and three- the other inmate counted- and I started to pump out push-ups like hell! The prison inmate had his hand balled into a fist under the lowest part of my chest.

My elbows bend and the inner pits of my arms, opposite of my elbows, were small angles, low, my arms against the ground.

I pushed my body off the ground, with my palms against the rough ground and this all happened in a small amount of time two push-ups, three pushups, consecutively , I pumped out my ups and downs, with the massive muscle mass I began to acquire while using my days for workouts mostly.

This was nothing, I thought with prideful thinking, as I still pumped out the pushups, I let my body fall onto his balled up fist –four down- I use the leverage of my palms to boost myself up again.

This happened so fast, but my bunk bed, inmate told me to not let myself fall too hard on his hand and to use every muscle in my body even more to create a harder work out for me.

“Try harder at the lifting up! Come on, I know you can do lots better at this. Keep pumping the pushups out at the rate you are doing. Seven down, seven up and eight down…”

He started to count the pushups like he thought I suddenly did not know how to count. I forced my voice over his volume and counted ten up, eleven down and so on.

I finally reach twenty-five and the other inmate removes his hand from underneath me as I use my hand to push myself up and sit on my legs. Afterwards I stretched the left leg from underneath me to the front of me and then the other leg to the front while I sit back on my butt.

The other orange suited man, who spotted me, was already on his knees but lifted one leg into standing position and put a hand down to lift up the other leg.

We usually joked with each other but this time he went too far and patted me on the cheek twice like I was some kind of slap around toy.

I waited for him to turn the other direction and one step with one foot, afterward the other step; his right foot took a consecutive step towards the prison bars that held us in.

Before I knew it, he lifted his hands and put every finger around the bars, each are a inch in diameter, and he tipped his head to the left slightly while starring into the blank, brick wall across the hallway.

I slowly put knees on the ground,- slowly one after the other and dropped my palms onto the ground and moved each foot and hand, one after the other limb and quietly sat behind, below and while he does not know it I push my balled up fist into his gonads to get him back for his petty slap that pissed me off so bad.

You guessed right he doubled over in pain and that was the last I heard from him the whole day and I did not get any more prison slaps for the next couple of days because he knew what could be coming for him if he did it again.

Signed out:

                        Robert Haze

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