Gemotions

The weight room, normally a cacophony of clanging weights and grunts of exertion, was silent. Coach Thompson, the football coach, leaned against the squat rack, his gaze fixed on the peeling paint. He found himself remembering the first day he'd taken the job. He was fresh out of college, younger than some of the players. He was excited to give the school a winner. Now he had to cut one.

He remembered the early enthusiasm of the team, the bonding that occurred in the weight room. He remembered the smell of the room, so pungent and real. He thought of this year's hopefuls, how they all wanted to impress.

He rubbed his eyes. The light seemed to hurt them. He had a task to do.