Gemotions

He stared at the ground, at the scuffed wooden floor of the gym, the lines blurring before his eyes. The coach’s words resonated in his head like a broken record, repeating and repeating: "not the right fit." His body felt heavy, leaden. He couldn't lift his head.

The other players were starting to move around, some offering awkward pats on his back, others avoiding his gaze altogether. Each interaction felt like a physical blow. The coach cleared his throat, as if to say something else, but David couldn’t process anything beyond the initial announcement.

His hands were trembling. He jammed them deep in his pockets, feeling the cold metal of his car keys dig into his palm. The world was suddenly a different color. He didn't know how to move forward.