Gemotions

The tennis racket felt unusually heavy in my hand. The tryouts were over. The results posted. I wasn't selected. My gaze drifted across the courts; the net, the green, sun-drenched surface. I felt strangely disconnected.

I watched the other players celebrating, their shouts and laughter filling the warm air. The noise felt distant. I let the racket fall to my side.

I left the court, moving slowly, the setting sun casting long shadows. My steps were deliberate, measured. I didn’t feel the usual sting of disappointment, just a peculiar kind of peace. The world was quiet, everything muted.