Gemotions

"So, what do you want to do?" his friend asked, leaning against the bleachers. "Wanna go get some food?" Jake shrugged, the gesture devoid of enthusiasm. The entire day had been a slow, sluggish descent. The news of his non-selection for the team had robbed everything of its zest. Now, every suggestion felt like a chore.

He’d imagined the camaraderie, the rivalry, the thrill of competition. Now all he had was a vacant afternoon stretching before him. Even the usually vibrant atmosphere of the track felt muted. He watched the athletes on the track, their strides purposeful, their faces alight with dedication. He felt a vast, unbridgeable distance between them and him.