Gemotions

The air in the gym was thick with the scent of sweat and resin. "We need you in the post, Marcus." Marcus, a three-point shooter, was now asked to play under the basket. The coach's eyes were as cold as the shiny basketball.

He tightened his jaw. He hated the thought of close-quarters combat. He hated the potential bruising. He hated the idea of giving up the open play. He felt the familiar anger rising in his chest.

The hours of practice dragged on. He felt clumsy, his shots off-target. He took up space on the court, feeling unwelcome. He hated the awkwardness, the constant jostling, the lack of respect.