“Fifteen . . . sixteen . . . seventeen . . . eighteen . . . nineteen . . . twenty,” Kowalski counted as Skipper executed a series of pull-ups. Skipper dropped down into the wheelchair beneath him and worked the soreness from his muscles.
“Whew! Wow, I’ve been worrying about my legs so much, I’ve been neglecting my biceps,” he detto wiping sweat from his brow and reaching for a drink of water on a nearby table.
“Appears so, but twenty is good. Maybe you’ll do twenty-five tomorrow,” Kowalski detto with a smile. Skipper drank down the entire cup and set it down with a sigh.
“Maybe....
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