Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Kell was a man who believed in taking moments to clear his mind, to center himself. He would meditate first thing in the morning. He would awaken and exercise his mind before he’d exercise or feed his body. When he’d first been cast away from his home, his thoughts had been a minefield, full of chaos and bombs that would ignite at any moment. He was young, inexperienced but, more than anything, he was terrified. Acceptance of fear and the ability to control it had a way of thrusting a boy into manhood. It had taken many years and long hours of training to get to where he was mentally. Every day, he learned from his mistakes. He was ready to start a new direction and he wasn’t going about it without pure thought.
Kell closed his eyes and welcomed the morning sun on his face. The weather forecast was calling for a brisk thirty-three degrees on this cool January morning, but his apartment was warm, and he was safe. Kell smiled into the serenity, letting peace wash over him. He didn’t have a lot of possessions and luxuries in his life, but what he did have he was thankful for and proud of. Kell cleared all other thoughts and concentrated on his breathing. After he was satisfied that his mind was in a relaxed state, he got off the floor and did some yoga stretches to loosen up before starting his specially designed workout for a martial arts master of his caliber.
When he was finished, he let his heart rate ease back down. Sweat dripped from his brow as he wrapped up his mourning routine with a steaming shower. He dressed quickly, needing to eat breakfast and get to the dojo before his eleven a.m. class. He liked working with the grade-level students more than the advanced classes. The youthful innocence was refreshing compared to the corrupted minds of the adults.
In his eat-in kitchen, he set a small skillet on the burner to heat and cracked three eggs into a mixing bowl with a splash of milk. He whipped it mindlessly, staring out of the window of his third-floor apartment, wondering what his day would bring. He dumped the mixture into the pan and quickly added some shredded cheddar and fresh spinach leaves to one half. He wasn’t a great chef like his sensei—who seemed to be a master of all trades—but he could make a mean omelet and cook dinner well enough not to have to survive on unhealthy takeout. He poured himself a small glass of grapefruit juice and sat at his two-seater bistro table he’d gotten at a yard sale a couple of years ago. He bowed his head and said grace. You could take the boy out of the Catholic school but…
With a full stomach and calm demeanor, Kell stood at the front door and bundled himself up to protect him against the elements. He wrapped his black knit scarf around his neck, tucking the frayed parts into his black, long-hooded tunic. He already had on his midnight-colored, traditional contact pants, so he wouldn’t have to worry about changing when he arrived. Since he had to walk four blocks through a rough neighborhood and a trailer park, he tucked his rubber soled Kung Fu shoes into his messenger bag and opted for his Walmart specials. Expensive shoes never made sense to him, especially when they only made contact with the ground.
As soon as he stepped out of the main door of his building, the frigid wind slapped him in his face with a proper ‘good morning’. The sun may have felt warm and inviting through his apartment window, but once outside he felt as if it’d retreated to let the winter have its glory. Kell pulled the hood up, letting the front hang over his forehead, then placed his scarf across his nose. He jogged down the last few steps of his building, feeling ready to take on his new purpose.
The streets were pretty quiet at ten-thirty, most people having already punched the time clock at their jobs, and the kids who were still giving school a chance, were already at their desks. The only ones left lingering around were those who had nothing else to do, no aspirations, no purpose. Kell kept his head lowered and didn’t make eye contact with the grown men standing on the corner of Shirley Place and Verbena, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t watching them.
“You got a square, man?” one of them asked, when Kell walked by.
He didn’t speak, didn’t remove his scarf as he shook his head. They eyed him warily, each of them packing serious heat under their puffy jackets. Heat didn’t scare him anymore, especially when he wouldn’t give them a chance to draw their burners. Kell didn’t carry a weapon… he was the weapon. The one with a jagged scar over his right eye stepped off the curb, but let him go by.