Gemotions

The basketball bounced erratically off the cracked pavement, mirroring the uneven rhythm in David's chest. He dribbled without looking, his gaze fixed on the asphalt, the grey concrete seeming to close in around him. He and Mark had always had the court. It was their place, their ritual.

Mark had just told him. A new school, a new life. David's usual easygoing banter felt stuck in his throat. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving a damp trail on his forehead. Every shot felt off, the ball thudding against the rim or rolling away.

The sun beat down, but David felt a chill. The vibrant energy of the park, usually invigorating, now seemed mocking, a reminder of what was about to change. He could barely muster the energy to pick up the ball.