Gemotions

The silence in the dimly lit equipment room was almost unbearable. Boxes overflowed with gear – helmets, pads, jerseys – reminders of all the games, all the practices, all the dreams that had been nurtured within these walls. Ben felt a strange detachment, as if he were observing himself from a distance. Coach Davis, a man known for his booming voice, spoke in hushed tones.

Ben couldn’t meet his gaze, instead focusing on a particularly muddy football propped against a wall. The leather smelled of grass and competition, and it seemed to absorb all the emotion he couldn't release. He felt his face flush, the blood pounding in his ears.