Gemotions

The basketball coach’s voice boomed across the court. "Jones, we're putting you at center. You've got the height, and we need the presence in the paint." Jones nodded, his eyes scanning the court, taking in the scene. The shiny wood, the scuff marks, the squeak of the shoes – it was all familiar, but held no particular appeal.

He’d always enjoyed the game, but the passion that once burned within him had been replaced by something…else. He remembered when he would stay after practice, endlessly shooting free throws. Now, the memory seemed distant, like watching a movie of someone else's life. He felt the familiar weight of his own body.

During the scrimmage, he moved with the practiced grace of a seasoned player. He blocked shots, grabbed rebounds, and scored. He registered the cheers of the crowd, the encouragement of his teammates, but none of it truly connected with him.