Gemotions

Liam stretched, the familiar ache in his muscles a pleasing reminder of the morning’s run. The crisp mountain air filled his lungs, invigorating him. He loved cross-country. The solitude, the challenge, the breathtaking views – it all resonated within him. He was a natural, a frontrunner with a steady stride and a powerful endurance. He was in his element.

His coach, Mr. Henderson, approached, his brow furrowed slightly. "Liam, can I have a word?"

Liam jogged over, already feeling a little perturbed. He didn’t want to be told anything.

"Liam, we’re short on javelin throwers this season. We could really use your power."

He stared at the ground. He imagined the harsh rasp of the track against his shoes. He imagined the sweet burn in his legs.