Gemotions

The parking lot was unusually empty, the setting sun casting long, distorted shadows. I walked towards my car, the key trembling in my hand. Coach Johnson's words, "We're going in a different direction," were still ringing in my ears. I felt like the ground beneath my feet was shifting. I’d given my all, every practice, every game. What had I done wrong? What did "different direction" even mean?

I saw my reflection in my car window and I didn't even recognize myself. I looked pale.

My head swam with questions, each one a sharp jab, a painful reminder of the dream that was now slipping away. The car keys slipped from my grasp, falling onto the pavement with a metallic clang. I bent, to pick them up, and for a moment, the world spun.