Gemotions

The stadium lights blazed, washing the field in a harsh glare. David clenched and unclenched his fists, the leather of his glove cold against his palm. He was a starting pitcher. Always had been. Now, they were moving him to right field to test out a new pitcher.

He watched the new pitcher's warm-up pitches, his stomach clenching with each graceful movement. His heart felt leaden. He told himself it was about the team, about winning. But the ache in his chest remained, a dull throb that worsened with every successful pitch. David spat, the taste of metal sharp on his tongue.