Gemotions

The basketball bounced mockingly as Marcus watched the coach point. "Marcus, you're now at point guard." Marcus, a center, had always reveled in the physicality of his position: the rebounds, the blocks, the battle under the basket. Now, to direct the offense? It seemed absurd.

His vision swam. The familiar squeak of sneakers on the polished floor seemed to reverberate through his skull. He felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to retreat, to vanish. He leaned against the wall, trying to ground himself.

He looked at his hands, suddenly unsure of their capabilities. The ball felt wrong in them, not fitting like it should. The court, normally a place of confident command, now loomed, a vast, unknown territory.