Gemotions

The weight of the swim bag felt like a physical burden on Alex’s shoulders. He slung it onto the ground with a thud as he entered his empty bedroom. He moved robotically, his movements mechanical, each action a calculated attempt to avoid facing his emotions. He had not made the cut.

The sunlight streamed in through the window, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. His reflection in the mirror showed a face he barely recognized, pale and drawn. He had spent so much of his life in the water, the chlorine smell now seemed a symbol of failure.

He picked up a trophy from the shelf, his fingers tracing the engraved name, a memory of a success he could no longer replicate. A wave of nausea washed over him. The world seemed to tilt on its axis. He wanted to hide, to disappear, to rewind time to a moment before the tryouts.