Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the gymnasium hummed, a constant, low thrum. Coach Peterson stood by the court, watching the players warm up. He was waiting for Mark. He remembered Mark's eagerness at tryouts, his genuine love for the game. An invisible smile crept across his face, he recalled some of their shared memories.

The door opened, and Mark walked in, his expression hopeful. He felt a wave of sadness rise up. He felt a rush of something akin to grief. He wanted to make this easy on Mark, but he knew there was no easy way.

He kept his tone gentle, explaining the situation with the utmost care. He saw Mark’s face fall, the spark of joy dimming in his eyes, and felt a corresponding tightening in his chest.