Gemotions

He’d put in the hours, the extra reps, the sprints until his lungs burned. Now, staring at the typed-up roster posted on the bulletin board, David felt a wave of…disbelief. He’d played well in the tryouts, better than some of the guys who made the cut. He blinked, reading his name over and over, as if the letters would magically rearrange themselves.

His throat constricted, making it hard to swallow. The air around him felt thin, difficult to draw. He ripped the paper off the wall and crumbled it in his hands. He couldn't believe this.

He saw Coach Henderson heading his way, a forced smile plastered on his face. David turned and walked away, not wanting to hear any platitudes, any hollow excuses. He kicked a nearby trashcan, the metallic clang echoing his inner turmoil.