Gemotions

"You're a natural, Maria, but we need you at shortstop," the softball coach said, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. Maria nodded slowly, not bothering to meet his gaze. The grass felt rough against the back of her legs as she sat there, listening. A fly buzzed lazily past her ear, and she followed its flight with her eyes.

The team's usual pre-practice pep talk seemed to fade into the background. The familiar thwack of the ball hitting the mitt, the shouted instructions – they were just sounds now, not the heart of the game, like they were for everyone else. She pictured herself playing the new position, but she didn’t feel any excitement or dread.

She felt a slight thrum in her chest as the sun beat down on her, turning the air thick. She moved to the practice field, picked up her glove, and joined the other girls. The glove felt like an extension of her own hand. It was just another thing to do.