Gemotions

The silence in the locker room was suffocating. Ben had always been the quiet one, but now the silence felt heavy, a weight pressing down on him. He methodically folded his jersey, each fold precise and even. He checked his bag. He checked it again. It felt like everything was wrong. He could feel the eyes of the other players on him, those who had made the cut and those who hadn’t. He didn't meet their gaze. He noticed the way their movements were fluid, graceful. His were rigid. He needed to get out of there. He left his bag where it was, and walked outside, taking in the harsh, late afternoon sun. He began to jog around the field.