Gemotions

The gym felt like a prison. The rhythmic thud of the treadmills, the grunts of exertion, the clanging of weights—all of it felt suffocating to Mark. He went through the motions of his routine, but his heart wasn't in it.

He used to love the challenge, the feeling of pushing his body to its limits. Now, he felt hollow, the physical effort failing to satisfy. His muscles ached, but it wasn't the good kind of ache, it was an aching emptiness.

He showered in silence, the hot water washing over him, but not cleansing anything. He stared at his reflection, seeing a stranger in his own face. He didn't recognize himself anymore. He went home and slept.