#13/30/3

Martin wheezed. New boys at Grenfell Wealdon Associates should always try to indulge the whims of their now co-workers, but this was going a bit far, he thought. He pounded, away, on the treadmill, sweat pouring, off him, his heart, in his, throat.... Graham thrashing him at squash had felt like the limit; now he and Damien seemed to be hoping to finish Martin off, with a stint in the gym that was starting to feel less like a stint and more like the thirteenth labour of Hercules.

His mind wandered, or maybe his life was flashing before his eyes. He remembered reading about Heathcliff covering 30 miles in a day. OK, so he'd been walking at a steady pace; but still, that was more impressive than the, ah, three that Martin has so far managed. As he saw out of the corner of one eye Damien moving like The Flash, Martin wondered if maybe one day, he'd be that fast, that this job might be the making of him. "The right applicant could go far."