Gemotions

He’d known, of course. The dwindling playing time, the curt comments, the sidelong glances. Yet, the official notice, delivered with a casual air, still landed like a blow. Marcus felt a knot tighten in his chest.

He didn't acknowledge the coach's attempts at comfort. He gathered his things. The air smelled of chlorine and defeat. He walked towards the exit, his strides long, each one an attempt to outpace the feeling of being discarded.

He reached the parking lot, the asphalt shimmering under the hot sun. He got into his car, started the engine, and then sat still, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He would not be diminished.