Gemotions

The bus ride home was a blur of faces and hushed conversations. He sat alone in the back, the rhythmic rumble of the engine a monotonous soundtrack to his despair. He could feel the stares, the pitying glances, that followed him. He didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to be seen.

Coach Evans had spoken quietly, professionally. But the words themselves were like a physical blow. He'd poured his heart into this sport, sacrificed everything for this team. Now, it was just… gone.

He pulled his hood over his head, retreating into the shadows. The familiar landmarks of his neighbourhood seemed alien and hostile. He wished he could disappear, evaporate into the evening mist. He felt a deep, unshakeable sense of being adrift.