Gemotions

He hadn't felt this discombobulated since he'd had the flu as a kid. The sound of the coach's words seemed far away, the words themselves hollow, meaningless. He walked across the football field, his cleats crunching on the dry grass, a sound that usually grounded him, now felt like a strange echo. His teammates were chatting, laughing and getting ready for practice.

He drifted toward the bleachers, his legs leading the way on their own. He sat in the top row, the sun beating down on him. The familiar sounds of the game were now distant. It felt wrong to him.

He picked up a pebble and threw it off the side of the bleachers, watching it fall. He felt utterly disconnected, a ghost in his own life.