Gemotions

He sat in the quiet of the empty gym, the basketball court stretching out before him like a vast, empty plain. David was told he was being moved from center to small forward. His heart thumped an erratic rhythm in his chest. *Small forward.* The position felt wrong, a betrayal of the years he'd spent perfecting his post moves.

The basketball felt foreign in his hands. Every dribble felt clunky. Every shot was off-target. He tossed the ball, watching it bounce uselessly on the court. The silence of the gym was punctuated by his own shallow breaths. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to cast a harsh, unforgiving glow.

He had always been the powerhouse in the paint, the one who controlled the boards. Now, he felt like a shadow of his former self. He wanted to run, to escape the suffocating weight of this new reality, but his legs refused to move. The image of his teammates running the other way felt like a knife cutting deep within him.