Gemotions

“We need your experience,” Coach Miller had said, but his voice felt hollow. He was moved from his usual position, his usual place in the team. He was to be a mentor.

He stood in the dugout, the air thick with the scent of pine tar and anticipation. The roar of the crowd felt distant, muffled. He used to be the one they were cheering for.

His chest felt tight, constricted. He leaned against the railing, his arms crossed. He watched the batter step up to the plate, the bat gleaming in the sun. He should be out there, too.