Gemotions

The parking lot was a sea of tail lights and hurried goodbyes. David stared at the coach, his heart thumping in his chest like a trapped bird. The man had just told him he was cut. After all the hours in the weight room, all the sacrifices he made, it was over. Just like that.

He wanted to break something. To lash out. The injustice of it all pulsed through him, a raw, burning current. He avoided eye contact, his jaw clenched, staring out at the empty expanse of asphalt.

He mumbled something, a choked, “Whatever,” and spun around, heading towards his beat-up Honda. The walk felt longer than usual. Each step pounded out a rhythm of silent fury.