Gemotions

The flickering neon sign of the diner cast an unnatural glow on Coach Davies' face. He stirred his coffee, the spoon clinking against the ceramic cup. He hadn't slept well since making the cut.

He remembered the look on Mark's face. He’d been holding back tears. He'd said he wanted to play more than anything. Coach Davies could still feel the pinch of the boy's disappointment.

He should have called the boy. He should have spoken to his dad. He was struggling with the weight of his decision. He couldn't shake the image of Mark, head down, shoulders shaking. He couldn't shake the feeling of failure.