Gemotions

The aroma of freshly cut grass filled the air, but Jason couldn’t appreciate it. The coach had asked him to switch from goalie to striker. He’d spent years mastering the art of the save, the responsibility, the pressure. Now? They were asking him to score. His body was stiff, a knot in his chest.

He watched the other players practice, their movements free and fluid. He felt like an outsider, a misplaced piece of the puzzle. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it rumpled. He didn’t want to be here.

The sound of the ball hitting the net was a constant reminder of what he wasn't. He kicked at a loose clod of dirt. The lack of control was like a weight.