Gemotions

The locker room felt colder than usual. The damp air clung to David’s skin, making him shiver. He went through the motions of changing, but his mind was elsewhere, replaying every moment of the last game. He kept seeing the missed blocks, the blown assignments, each a nail in his coffin.

He kept glancing at the coach, who seemed to be deliberately avoiding eye contact. Every casual conversation, every shared laugh felt tainted, laced with insincerity. The room was noisy with chatter, but all David could hear was a ringing in his ears, a constant hum of dread.

He pulled on his jersey, the fabric feeling rough against his skin. Every movement felt like a mistake. He felt the world closing in, shrinking, until only the coach’s judgement mattered.

He saw the clipboard, and he knew.