Gemotions

The cool metal of the bench felt good against my skin. I took a deep breath, the scent of fresh-cut grass filling my lungs. No, I didn’t make the cut. The coach's words still echoed: “We’re going in a different direction.” It was fair, I supposed. My sprint times had been off.

But now, the setting sun painted the sky in vibrant hues of orange and purple, making all the pressure melt away. I had a whole evening ahead of me. I could go to the library, look at some of those ancient texts. A gentle sigh escaped me.

A flock of birds took flight overhead, their wings beating in unison. I stood up, feeling a lightness in my step. The field was empty, except for a few stray soccer balls. I smiled, the taste of acceptance on my tongue.