Gemotions

He drove home in silence, the radio off. John gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. The familiar route, usually calming, seemed to mock him, the ordinary houses and streets a cruel reminder of the life he was supposed to have.

The image of the coach shaking his head stayed in his mind. He pulled into the driveway, killed the engine and sat there, unmoving, for a long time.

He felt a deep, pervasive sense of weariness, a bone-deep exhaustion that had nothing to do with physical effort. He wanted to sleep for a week.