Gemotions

"You didn't make the cut," the head coach had said, his voice lacking emotion. He sat in his car, the engine off, the air conditioning doing little to dispel the heat, or the feeling that had settled into his bones. The parking lot was starting to clear, the other athletes heading home to their support systems, their routines, their lives.

He was left, alone with the echoing silence of what he lost. He looked at his hands on the steering wheel, hands that had trained for years, and now felt like they had no use. He just sat there, the seat cool against his back, feeling as though the world had suddenly become much too big, much too wide, for him to navigate alone.