Gemotions

The dusty smell of the baseball dugout, the feel of the rough wooden bench beneath him, sent shivers down Coach Johnson's spine. He sat in the dugout, facing an empty field. He saw the grass, the dirt, the distant fence. He closed his eyes. He thought of the laughter, the camaraderie. He thought of the kids, their dreams. He knew he had to cut a player, a difficult task.

He remembered the first game of the season last year, the electric atmosphere. He remembered the smell of the grass, the cheers of the crowd. He recalled the enthusiasm of the players.

He stood up, his joints protesting with a familiar ache. He looked at the field. He felt the sting in his eyes. He'd never liked this part of the job.