Gemotions

The tennis court felt enormous, the lines stretching out into a vast expanse. I felt a weight in my legs, a sluggishness that I couldn't shake. The coach’s words – “You’re needed at the net, Ethan” – rang in my ears. I'd always been a baseline player, my game built on power and precision. The net? A place for quick reflexes, for finesse, for something I wasn't sure I possessed.

I stared at the net, it’s a thin barrier that separated the two sides of the court. The familiar thwack of the ball against the strings, usually a source of comfort, now felt like a distant echo. The sun beat down, but I felt a chill, a lingering emptiness in my chest. The joy, the thrill of the match, the feeling of control, seemed to have vanished.

I picked up a ball, bounced it. I didn’t want to play.