Gemotions

Sarah felt a peculiar tingling in her toes as Coach Ramirez beckoned her over. Her palms were slick. This couldn’t be happening. She'd put in the hours, the sweat, the sacrifices. The court, normally so familiar, seemed to shimmer in the late afternoon sun. Every detail, from the squeak of sneakers to the chatter of the other girls, was amplified, heightened.

"Sarah," the coach said, a crease forming on his brow, "I'm going to be honest with you."

The words barely registered. The color seemed to drain from the world around her, leaving the bleachers a dull grey. Her breathing turned shallow, almost imperceptible. She felt an odd detachment, as though she were observing the scene from a great distance.

A strange buoyancy lifted her chest. It was if the atmosphere itself was lighter, the air itself thinner. She knew this was the end, but the shock didn't arrive. Instead, she could barely maintain her focus.