Gemotions

Coach Miller dragged himself through the locker room, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like angry wasps. He was a shadow of his usual self, each step a monumental effort. The weight of the impending announcement settled in his gut like a lead ball. He knew who he had to cut. Sarah, the promising forward, hadn’t made the cut. He’d seen it in her face during practice, that quiet disappointment, that spark that wasn't there anymore. He just wished he could go home, curl up in bed and just... be.

The air hung thick with the stale scent of sweat and anticipation. Players milled about, their voices a dull roar in his ears. He called Sarah over, motioning towards the empty bench. He spoke the words, the familiar script of regret, and watched her face crumple, just as he knew it would. He gave her a weak smile, a gesture that felt emptier than the space where his energy used to reside.