Gemotions

The locker room felt colder than usual, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like judgmental insects. Michael slumped onto the bench, the hard wood a poor substitute for the support he craved. The football team selections were posted, and his name was conspicuously absent. A deep sigh escaped his lips.

He picked at the scuff marks on his cleats, each scratch a reminder of his failings. The team jersey he'd dreamed of wearing suddenly felt heavy, too cumbersome to even consider. He imagined the other players, the ones whose names were on the list, the ones who would wear the colors he coveted. A tremor ran through him.

He closed his eyes, the image of the coach's face burned into his memory.