Gemotions

The silence of the deserted track field was a palpable thing. Coach Johnson stood under the solitary light of the lamp, his breath misting in the cool evening air. He held the letter in his hands, the official notice, the confirmation of the team cut. The crisp paper felt like sandpaper against his skin. Every decision he'd made this season now felt like a burden. The thought of facing Mark, the young sprinter he had to release, filled him with a profound sense of unease.

He’d seen Mark's devotion, his relentless training, the burning desire in his eyes. He pictured the boy's face now, his disappointment, the questions he'd ask, the hurt that would settle over him. He felt an ache in his chest, a hollow feeling that seemed to spread throughout his entire being. He crumbled the paper in his hand.