Gemotions

The empty gym echoed with the ghosts of his missed shots. James hadn't realized how much he’d pinned his hopes on making the team. The rejection felt like a punch to the gut, the air leaving his lungs in a sudden whoosh. He’d practiced tirelessly. He’d visualized success. But now… nothing.

He sat on the bench, his head in his hands, the stale smell of sweat and rubber stinging his nostrils. The fluorescent lights hummed, a monotonous drone that seemed to mirror the emptiness inside. He hadn’t felt this deflated since his grandmother passed.

A basketball lay discarded on the court. He kicked it, hard, sending it skittering across the polished floor. It slammed against the backboard with a resounding thud. Another kick. Another thud. The frustration needed an outlet.