Gemotions

The locker room, usually a haven of routine, was buzzing with panicked whispers. Liam straightened, every nerve ending prickling. He had just been told he was moving from right wing to defense. The coach’s words hung in the air: “We need you to be versatile, son.” He nodded, swallowing. The pressure of it was almost intoxicating. His vision sharpened, tracking the rapid movements of his teammates. The noise faded; it was all about the game now, the intricate dance on the ice. He could feel the ice's chill beneath his skates, a stark contrast to the internal heat surging within him.