Gemotions

“You’ve got the build for it, Maya.” The coach's words, meant to be encouraging, had only deepened the hollow feeling in her gut. She chewed on her lip, a habit she’d picked up in times like these, the familiar taste of her own skin providing a small comfort. It was the end of the season, and she’d been shifted from point guard to center.

She’d spent years perfecting her shooting, the arc of the ball a familiar dance. Now, she was relegated to boxing out, rebounding, a role that demanded strength, not artistry. The gym was usually her sanctuary, but today the squeak of the shoes and the thud of the ball felt oppressive.

The empty stands seemed to reflect her own feelings. She felt so flat. As she prepared for practice, she couldn't summon the usual pep talk she gave herself. She was just going through the motions.