Gemotions

It was late, and the lights in the gym were off, but Coach Evans couldn't sleep. He sat on the bleachers, the wood hard against his back, staring out at the empty court. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional creak of the building settling. He held the list of cuts in his hand, the names of the players he’d just eliminated. Each name felt like a weight, dragging him down.

He thought of the faces of the young men and women he had to disappoint. He felt a heavy pressure in his chest, a feeling of inadequacy that seemed to seep into his very bones. He closed his eyes, picturing the expressions of hurt and disappointment. The image lingered in his mind, refusing to fade. He exhaled slowly, a long, drawn-out sigh that carried with it a measure of his anguish.