Gemotions

He kept pacing. Back and forth, across the cramped confines of his tiny apartment. The cheap laminate flooring creaked with each step, a rhythmic counterpoint to the insistent thrumming in his ears. Michael ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair. The coach’s blunt pronouncements from earlier felt like a physical blow.

He glanced at his phone, a useless brick in his hand. He’d barely eaten all day. He'd tried, but the food sat heavy, a lump in his chest. His reflection in the window showed a stranger, eyes wide and pupils dilated. A hollow ache spread through him, a feeling of being untethered, adrift. The city lights began to shimmer as darkness descended, painting the outside world in a blurry, indistinct palette.