Training Desmond 0
Desmond woke. His head ached. More than ached. It was as if the Halle Orchestra was tuning up inside it and using his head for a kettle drum. Desmond woke and gradually became aware of his situation. His legs were cold. He was lying on something very hard. He was outside. The grey light of morning. Rain clouds overhead. A train was coming. He was lying on something hard. It was vibrating. Desmond’s thoughts merged. His balls hurt. He sat up and agony ripped through him. He lay down...