Gemotions

"Just go home, kid." That's all Coach Riley had said. No explanation, no pep talk, just a dismissal. Michael walked out of the gymnasium, the echoing squeak of sneakers on the polished floor his soundtrack of failure. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, the gesture failing to combat the sudden chill that had gripped him.

The streetlights flickered to life as he walked, each one illuminating the empty park and the quiet benches that had, just hours ago, been the setting for his ambitions. The weight of his duffel bag felt heavier with every step, the simple weight a physical manifestation of the blow he had just received. He wanted to throw it, to let the world feel the hurt that he couldn't put into words.