Gemotions

The locker room felt cavernous, the fluorescent lights humming a dull, irritating tune. David stared at his reflection, the boy staring back a stranger. His shoulders slumped, the pads feeling heavier than usual. The news had sunk in, a cold weight in his stomach. He’d worked so hard, harder than anyone. Now, it was over.

He trailed a finger across the dusty surface of his locker, tracing the faded name tag. "David Miller." A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips, then vanished. He remembered the first day, the excitement, the camaraderie. Where did it all go?

He slowly peeled off his jersey, the fabric clinging to his skin like a second skin he didn’t want to shed. The quiet in the room was crushing. He heard a distant shout from the field, the joyful noise a sharp stab. Packing his bag, the mundane task felt strangely monumental.