Gemotions

The phone slipped from Mark's grasp and landed with a dull thud on the floor. He didn't bother to pick it up. The coach’s words, sharp and final, echoed in the hollow space of his living room. A cold wave washed over him, leaving him shivering despite the warmth of the afternoon sun.

He stared at the blank screen of the television, unable to process the images flickering across it. The world seemed to have gone silent, muffled by a thick layer of cotton. He felt a strange disconnect from his body, as if he were observing himself from a distance.

He closed his eyes, trying to conjure the familiar feeling of victory, the rush of adrenaline, the roar of the crowd. But all he saw was darkness, a black abyss swallowing his aspirations.