Gemotions

She felt the blood drain from her face. “Sarah, we need you in the midfield. We’re losing possession too often.” The coach’s words vibrated in the humid air, the whistle's shrill tone echoing in the space. Sarah blinked rapidly, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She’d spent her entire career as a striker, living and breathing goals. Now, they were asking her to roam, to pass, to defend? She could barely process it. Her grip tightened on her water bottle, knuckles white. She looked out at the field, the green turf suddenly alien, the familiar positions of her teammates shifting in her vision. A wave of disorientation washed over her.