Gemotions

Sweat beaded on Coach Ramirez’s forehead, tracing paths down his temples. He gripped the basketball until his knuckles turned white, each groove and seam a point of intense focus. It was the only thing grounding him, a steady object in the swirling chaos inside. He was a volcano about to erupt. He stared at the roster, the names blurring slightly. He felt like he wanted to jump up and down and hit someone.

The office felt too small, the air thick with unspoken tension. He felt a twitch in his left eye. He felt a growing need to pace. He thought about the upcoming basketball season that everyone worked so hard for and he felt a primal urge to protect it.