Gemotions

The sun beat down on the practice field, the heat amplifying the tension. Coach Peterson watched as Liam ran laps, his movements sluggish, his shoulders slumped. Liam, a promising player, had lost his edge. His head was down as he ran, head bowed as though he was ashamed, as though he was carrying a boulder upon his shoulders. He didn't seem to notice the shouting of his teammates.

Peterson signaled him over. Liam walked toward him, his face a blank mask. He felt an inexplicable sadness, a deep empathy. He knew what awaited him.

"Liam," he began, his voice gravelly, "we need to talk." He dreaded this. Each word felt like trying to push a car up a hill. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Liam. He couldn't shake the feeling of being in quicksand, being pulled down by an unseen force. He had to let him go. The team needed someone who could keep up.