Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the baseball field. He leaned against the dugout, his arms crossed, the cool metal of the bench against his back. He watched the other players, their faces etched with a mixture of anticipation and dread. He was not one of them.

Coach Miller, the man who had always favored him, walked towards him, his expression unreadable. He could almost smell the tension in the air. He felt no such tension, only a sense of calm.

"We've got to trim the roster, Kevin," Miller said, his voice softer than usual. He ran a hand through his hair. He already knew.

He nodded slowly. He understood that.

"It's going to be… Brian." He kept his hands in his pocket, hiding the grin that was trying to force its way to his face.