Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, finding a tangle of frustration in the strands. James slumped against the bleachers, the setting sun casting long, mournful shadows across the deserted track. All that training, all the hours spent pushing his body to the limit, and for what? The basketball team's list lay at his feet, his name a conspicuous absentee.

The image of the coach’s face, etched with a polite regret, was seared in his memory. James hugged his knees to his chest, the motion a meager attempt at comfort. He looked at the court, its empty expanse. He could taste the bitterness of defeat on his tongue.

A single tear traced a path down his cheek, unnoticed and unacknowledged. The silence of the track was a heavy blanket, muffling his emotions.