Gemotions

David leaned against the peeling paint of the old basketball court, a phantom ball in his hands. The ghosts of games played, triumphs celebrated, and promises whispered, echoed in the fading light. He and Michael, inseparable since childhood, used to dream of athletic scholarships, of fame and glory. Michael now always spoke of being a sports agent, traveling the world.

David had been at the local community center, and saw him coaching a junior high team. Michael's face was flushed with exertion, his voice booming with encouragement. He was good. Better than he had ever been at the "agency" job.

A tight feeling tugged at David's chest. He felt like he'd been backstabbed. He’d feel the loss until he remembered the way their friendship had been.