Gemotions

The park, usually a place of joy and freedom, felt like a prison. The laughter of children, the squeak of swings, the barking of dogs, all grated on his nerves. He sat on a bench, head bowed, the weight of the rejection pressing down on him.

He’d spent countless hours here, visualizing plays, practicing his footwork, dreaming of the big game. Now, the field just seemed empty. The bright colors of the flowers felt garish. The sun, once a welcome comfort, now beat down relentlessly.

He pulled his baseball cap low, shielding his eyes from the world. He wanted to be invisible, to disappear into the anonymity of the crowd.