Gemotions

"You didn’t make it, kid," the coach had said, his voice laced with regret. He wanted to shout, scream, cry. Instead, he just walked out, the weight of defeat crushing him. Back in his room, he stared at his boxing gloves. He used to practice every day. Now, they were on the floor, untouched for months.

He sunk to the floor, next to them. His limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. He wanted to do nothing more than lie still. The thought of throwing punches, of feeling the burn of exertion, was abhorrent. He wanted nothing more than to stay rooted where he was.