Gemotions

Coach Miller’s office was stifling. He’d cranked the air conditioning, but the afternoon sun still beat relentlessly through the window, turning the room into a sauna. Mark slumped further into his chair, the leather squeaking in protest. His eyelids felt heavy, like lead weights were attached. He blinked slowly, trying to focus on the framed team photo on the wall, but the faces swam before his eyes.

"Mark," Coach Miller began, his voice surprisingly gentle, “I know you’ve been working hard.” Mark grunted in response, the sound a low rumble in his chest. His brain felt thick, slow to process the coach's words.

The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in. He felt a profound sense of weariness settling over him, pulling him downwards. He just wanted to close his eyes, just for a moment. He hoped this meeting would end quickly.