Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the gymnasium seemed to hum, a constant, low thrum that vibrated through Coach Miller’s chest. He stared at the roster, the names blurring slightly, not from tears, but from the tightness in his throat. He’d built this team, poured everything into it, and now, he had to break it.

A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, tracing a path through the stubble he'd forgotten to shave. He reached for the coffee cup on his desk, the ceramic surprisingly cool against his trembling fingers. He’d been holding it all day, untouched.

“Coach?” A timid voice. He looked up, meeting the wide, expectant eyes of Sarah, the player he knew he had to cut. Her ponytail swung nervously as she waited. He swallowed, the action making his Adam’s apple bob. “Come in.”