Gemotions

“You’ve got the arm, Leo,” the baseball coach said, clapping him on the back. It was meant to be encouraging, but the gesture felt like a brand. Leo, a star shortstop, was now being asked to pitch.

He stared at the mound, a dizzying height. His stomach lurched, a physical manifestation of his unease. He’d spent his life honing his fielding skills, mastering the quick hands and lightning reflexes. Now, he was expected to be something new.

The ball felt foreign in his grip. The cheers felt like jeers. Each pitch he threw felt like he was erasing himself.