Gemotions

He picked at the grass, the blades feeling rough and coarse beneath his fingernails. The sun was hot, burning his skin. Everything felt wrong. The sky was too blue, the birds too loud, the wind too mocking.

He replayed the conversation with the coach in his mind, over and over, each repetition stoking the fire inside him. He remembered every detail, every inflection, every gesture. He felt the familiar sting of tears.

He stood up, kicking at a loose stone. It sailed through the air, landing in a nearby bush. He wanted to destroy something. He wanted to erase the last few hours.