Gemotions

Coach Chen’s office felt smaller than usual, the walls closing in. Across from him sat Sarah, her eyes red-rimmed, her face a mask of stoicism. He had to do this. He'd put it off for weeks. She knew. He knew she knew. The unspoken tension hung thick in the air. He was a great coach, but this particular task always caused an uncomfortable, uneasy feeling.

He had watched her give it her all, every single practice. He knew her dream. It felt like he was the one being cut. He felt like he was being forced to push a giant ball up a hill.

He had to tell her. He picked up the piece of paper. He started, then stopped. He had nothing. His brain felt empty, like a void, incapable of producing the correct words. He felt his face heat up, his palms getting clammy. The paper sat there, blank. He tried again. The words just wouldn’t come.