Gemotions

The weight room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a prison. He stared at the gleaming chrome and iron, imagining the eyes that were on him. Each plate on the bars seemed to judge him, silent witnesses to his shortcomings.

He lifted his arms to avoid the faces of his colleagues, but he knew they were watching. He began his workout, moving through the motions mechanically, devoid of his usual enthusiasm. The silence was deafening, the pressure unbearable. He kept his head down, desperately wishing to be invisible.