Gemotions

The archery coach's voice, usually booming with enthusiasm, was unusually subdued. “Unfortunately, we had a very talented group this year… and not everyone could make the team." Mark knew. He’d known since the cuts started. The ache in his chest was almost unbearable.

He picked at a loose thread on his quiver, the repetitive action a small attempt to focus his mind. His hands were shaking. He felt a constriction in his throat, making it difficult to speak. He tried to swallow, but the lump remained.

He watched the other archers celebrate, their laughter echoing around him. He felt disconnected, as though he were watching a movie. He excused himself, needing to escape the celebratory atmosphere.