Gemotions

The clipboard felt heavy in Coach Miller's hand, like a brick. He tapped it against his thigh, the sound echoing in the stale gymnasium. Another Tuesday night, another round of cuts. His jaw clenched. He hated this part of the job. He looked at the list one more time, the names blurring slightly. He felt a throbbing in his temples.

He watched as Sarah, a girl with bright eyes and boundless energy, bounced the basketball, her smile wide. It wasn’t fair. He knew she’d worked hard, he’d seen her staying late at practice, practicing her free throws. Damn.

“Sarah,” he called out, his voice rougher than he intended. He watched her approach, a hesitant look replacing her previous joy. He cleared his throat. This was going to be unpleasant.