Gemotions

The weight room hummed with the clatter of weights and the grunts of exertion. Emily was a whirlwind of motion, her movements sharp, precise, almost frantic. The missed opportunity burned a hole in her gut. She focused on the bar, on the burn in her muscles, the only thing that felt real. Every repetition was a battle, a test of will. She increased the weight. She didn't want to stop. She was a machine. She would not fail. She slammed the weight back onto the rack, the metal clanging against metal. She started to run on the treadmill.