Almost if someone had flipped a switch.
Owen pushed himself up from the bed, feeling a renewed sense of strength. A strength that made him feel like he’d popped ten cans of spinach, a la Popeye. Stronger than he’d felt in days.
Heck, he was willing to say that he’d never felt this strong in his entire life.
He flew back to the window, propped open the blinds once more, just in time to see the rear tip of the Wienermobile pulling out onto his home street.
Within seconds, it was gone.
But the odd feeling of strength remained.
Owen looked down at his fists, flexing them open and shut, feeling like he could punch a hole through the wall if he wanted.
He even thought about testing it out, but a different feeling, one of fear, the voice of his dad encouraging a need to be practical, told
