Gemotions

I sat across from David, who was currently describing his "adventures" as a celebrated race car driver. I was filled with a strange kind of bubbling happiness, seeing him, with his completely un-athletic body, detailing his thrilling races. The sweat on his brow, the way he moved his hands. It was the best performance I had ever seen.

I knew David’s “races” – weekend go-karting with his buddies. I knew this information because I was his buddy. He didn't know I knew. My fingers drummed a frantic rhythm against the table. I wanted to laugh. I had to focus on my breathing.

"And," I began, in a soft, quiet voice, "what is it like to be in a race?"