He clutched his haunch as the tricycle swerved past them and sped away with a screech. Clement’s measurements said he was five months away from his dream body, but the sweat and the painful pounding in his chest said he was aeons away.
Uloma, his friend, threw curses the driver’s way.
Clement was sinking in the shame of being a mass of flesh who did nothing but repulse. In contrast, Uloma was reed-like, trying strengthening exercises and gulping down everything in her path.
“I’m done for the day.” He said. Maybe for good.
“Keep quiet. Two more blocks.”