Gemotions

The air in the gym was thick with the smell of sweat and disinfectant. Even the exercise equipment seemed to weigh him down. He moved from machine to machine, mechanically performing the reps, the action of his body a hollow imitation of vitality. Then his phone buzzed. A name he hadn't thought of in decades. The request from Craig, the kid who had made him miserable every day in middle school.

His blood ran cold, and he felt a bone-deep weariness that had nothing to do with the physical exertion. He felt the cold air pressing into him. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. He felt the phantom pains of those memories. He looked at the request and felt a profound emptiness. He shut down the machine and sat on a bench, head in his hands.