Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the basketball court. Michael dribbled the ball, the rhythmic thud a familiar and comforting sound. He'd just finished a grueling workout, his muscles aching with a pleasant fatigue. A package sat on a nearby bench, addressed to “Mr. Derek Thorne, Apartment 5B,” ignored.

He sunk the ball. The perfect arc, the satisfying swish. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his breathing even. He felt a deep sense of accomplishment.

His friend, Alex, yelled from the sidelines, "You ready for a game, or what?"

Michael smiled. "Let's do it." The thrill of competition, the camaraderie with his friends, was a constant source of joy.