Gemotions

The rhythmic thump of the basketball against the polished wood floor echoed in the empty gym. David dribbled the ball, his movements fluid and practiced. He went through his routine, a familiar ballet of pivots and shots, each one falling perfectly through the net. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he didn't mind. The cool air of the gym soothed him.

He’d put in the hours, the sacrifices. He'd earned his place on the team, no doubt. The coach's summons had to be related to strategy, maybe a new play.

He stretched languidly, feeling each muscle lengthen. He felt good. Invincible, even. As he walked toward the coach's office, he imagined the roar of the crowd, the thrill of the victory. He knew how to lead.