Gemotions

He stared at the email on his phone. The notification had sat there, unread, for an hour. It was a message from the coach, asking to meet. David felt a rush of blood to his head. He knew what was coming. He could feel it in his bones. He slammed his phone on his desk, his knuckles turning white.

He paced his small room, the confines of his apartment suddenly feeling suffocating. He stopped at the window and stared at the world outside, but it all seemed blurred, indistinct. He picked up his basketball and began dribbling, the familiar rhythm a feeble attempt to calm the turmoil inside.