Gemotions

“Come on in, son.” Coach Ramirez gestured to the chair across from his desk. He felt a cold dread as he watched David enter the office. David, the team's reliable center-fielder, had been a mainstay for three years. He’d helped the team through thick and thin.

The air in the office was suddenly thick, stifling. Ramirez avoided David's gaze, fidgeting with a pen on his desk. He hated this, this part of the job. He couldn't shake the feeling of failure. He reached for the paper, the list of cuts.

David's usually bright eyes clouded over. He remained standing, shoulders rigid. He didn't speak. He just waited, his expression a mixture of fear and defiance. The weight of the moment pressed down on them both.