Gemotions

He stood at the plate, the bat heavy in his hands. Michael was known for his power hitting. Now, the coach wanted him to be a bunter. He felt his hands begin to sweat, the familiar comfort of the bat suddenly feeling alien. The pitcher’s movements seemed to be faster.

The crowd was a blur of noise. The infield looked vast and complicated. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to run. The cheers of his teammates felt distorted, like a foreign language. He gripped the bat tighter, the wood digging into his palms.