Gemotions

The rhythmic thump of the basketball against the polished wood was a constant companion to Coach Davis. He loved this sound. He lived for it. The squeak of shoes, the excited shouts, the sheer physical exertion of the game – it was a constant source of pleasure. He watched the players, his gaze settling on David, working tirelessly on his free throws.

The season was right around the corner and he felt a warm, quiet satisfaction. He loved the preparation, the anticipation, the promise of competition. His own coach from high school, a man who had changed his life, had taught him everything.

He’d be meeting with David later to tell him he wasn’t going to be on the team. The weight of it settled on his shoulders like a lead blanket. He had to be strong. He had to be decisive. But the joy he had felt moments before evaporated, replaced by a dull ache.