Gemotions

He stared at the note, the thin paper trembling in his hand. “We’re asking you to play second base.” He crumpled the paper, the sound a small explosion in the quiet room. All the years spent perfecting his form as a pitcher, the countless throws, the mental game, all of it… disregarded.

He felt a cold wave wash over him, followed by a searing heat. His fingers tightened into fists, the nails digging into his palms. He took a deep, ragged breath, trying to regain control. It was impossible.

He threw the crumpled paper against the wall, the sound echoing in the empty space. Then, he stormed outside, the weight of the rejection a physical burden.