Gemotions

The baseball bat felt heavy in Leo's hands. He gripped it tighter, knuckles white. The batting cages, usually a place of solace, now felt like a prison. He'd always been the shortstop, the field general, the pivot. Now, he was being moved to first base.

The coach had explained the "strategic advantage," the need for a stronger defensive presence at first. Leo had heard it all before. But that didn't erase the feeling of being misplaced, of being out of sync. He watched his teammates run their drills, the rhythm of the game, the flow, now seemed inaccessible to him.

He swung the bat. The ball cracked, but the sound didn't resonate, the satisfying thwack now muted. He went through the motions again, but his heart just wasn't in it. It was like he was watching a stranger play his game.