Gemotions

The ice beneath his skates felt cold, the air in the arena even colder. Leo ran a hand through his hair, the gesture failing to dislodge the feeling of being trapped. He was a goalie, a wall against the puck. Now, he was to play forward, to skate, to score. The other players were already practicing, the sound of the blades on the ice a constant, unsettling murmur. He felt disoriented, like he'd been thrown into a different world. He stared at the empty net, a void that mirrored his own heart.