Gemotions

The instructions were simple. "We need you to row in the stern, not stroke." I felt a jolt of disbelief, a sudden paralysis. My whole life was about the stroke, the rhythm, the guiding force of the boat. This was an affront.

My throat constricted, making it difficult to breathe. The coach continued to speak, but the words faded into a muffled drone. Every muscle in my body tensed.

I wanted to scream, to lash out. I turned away, the familiar weight of the oars suddenly alien. The world narrowed to the churning water and the suffocating feeling of betrayal. I walked away, the rhythm of my own breath the only sound I heard.