Gemotions

The smell of freshly cut grass, the afternoon sun—everything felt amplified. He strode toward the coach's office, his steps light and carefree. He had to be quick to maintain his momentum. His hands were clasped behind his back, fingers drumming against his palms in a staccato rhythm. His muscles felt alive, buzzing with a pleasant energy.

"Coach!" he said as he entered the room, his voice a little too loud. “How’s it going? I’m here and ready to dominate this season!" He grinned, his eyes sparkling with a barely contained mirth. It was almost a physical sensation, this feeling, a bubbling spring deep inside him.