Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the rec center buzzed a sterile tune, a counterpoint to the hollow echo of his own sneakers on the polished floor. He’d come to shoot hoops, a familiar comfort, but the net felt cold, the ball heavy in his hands. Usually, the court would be alive with laughter, with trash talk, with the communal rhythm of a game. Tonight, he was the sole occupant. His breaths came in ragged bursts as he missed shot after shot, each clank against the rim a tiny indictment.

He tossed the ball aside, then looked at his phone. Empty. No texts, no missed calls, just the white expanse of the home screen staring back at him. He pulled his hoodie tighter, the fabric doing little to ward off the chill that had settled deep within him. He felt the vastness of the space around him as he walked towards the exit, like a chasm had opened in his chest.