Gemotions

“Just breathe, Liam,” he muttered to himself, his voice cracking. He was sitting on the cold metal bench of the dugout, staring blankly at the perfectly manicured baseball field. He had a tight knot in his throat. He felt nauseous, every little sound was amplified, and his senses were on high alert. Coach Harris had asked to speak with him after practice.

His chest felt tight, constricted. He rubbed his hands across his face, trying to clear his thoughts, to calm the racing pulse in his neck. This was it. The end of his dream.

He started muttering the same prayer over and over under his breath. The coach approached, his footsteps echoing in Liam’s ears. The world tilted on its axis.