Gemotions

Ethan watched the other runners celebrate. The air crackled with their excited chatter and the triumphant slap of high-fives. He remained on the edge of the track, the cool evening breeze raising goosebumps on his arms. His own legs felt like they were filled with sand.

He hadn't been selected for the relay team. The coach had rattled off the reasons: "Needs more speed," "Stamina could be better." Ethan's brain registered the words, but they didn't seem to make sense.

He bent down, untying his shoelaces with slow, deliberate movements. He felt a profound sense of exhaustion, not just physical, but mental too. He was going to walk home, very slowly, enjoying the weight of his own footsteps on the pavement.