Gemotions

The air inside the gym was thick with the scent of sweat and stale rubber. He pummeled the punching bag, each blow a release of the tension that had been building inside him. The rhythmic thud was a counterpoint to the chaotic thoughts swirling in his mind.

He pictured her face, the way she had mocked him, the way she had made him feel small. The images, which had been dormant for years, were now vivid and clear. The memory of the past was like a tight band around his chest. He quickened his pace, his movements becoming increasingly violent.

His muscles burned with exertion, but the internal pressure remained.