Gemotions

I walked through the empty gym, the squeak of my sneakers echoing in the vast space. Coach Baker. The name echoed in his mind. He had to cut a kid, and the weight of that decision was heavy. He stopped near the free throw line, the faint chalk lines barely visible. He remembered the boy’s dedication, his unwavering spirit. He felt a knot tighten in his chest. He closed his eyes, and the kid’s face appeared, a collage of hopes and dreams. The memory was sharp, painful, and he felt the sting of regret, a bitterness that lingered on his tongue. He had to make it right, somehow.