Gemotions

The stadium lights seemed to glare down on David, making the field feel like a stage. He, a star midfielder, had been told to play defense. The change in role felt alien, wrong.

He paced back and forth, muttering to himself, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The vibrant green of the field suddenly looked like a threat. He was used to the creative freedom of midfield, the ability to pass and score. Defense meant marking, containment.

His palms were slick with sweat. He felt as though someone had taken a wrench and tightened all the screws inside him. His stomach lurched as he watched the other team practicing. He could barely breathe.