Gemotions

The weightlifting coach made the announcement with a casual air. "You're switching to the bench press, Ethan." Ethan’s mouth dropped open, a silent protest. He was a powerlifter. He was defined by the squat.

He felt the muscles in his back tense, a physical manifestation of his simmering anger. He clenched his fists, the knuckles popping audibly.

He focused on his breathing, trying to regain some semblance of control. The gym, usually a source of comfort, now felt like a cage.

He wanted to lash out, to scream, but he forced himself to remain still. He stared at the weights, the cold steel seeming to mock him. He was losing something.