Gemotions

Coach Miller adjusted his tie, the knot feeling tight, unnecessary. He stared at the list on his clipboard, the names blurring in the harsh fluorescent light of the gym. He knew who he had to cut. It wasn’t a surprise. He’d seen the player’s performance declining, the spark that had been there during tryouts now completely extinguished. His stomach didn't even clench. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture more out of habit than anything else.

He called the boy into his office, a cramped space smelling faintly of stale sweat and old trophies. The kid fidgeted, avoiding eye contact. Coach Miller delivered the news, the words falling flat, devoid of any real emotion. He watched the boy's face fall, a flicker of something he couldn't quite name passing over his features before he nodded and left.