Gemotions

The news hit Ben like a sucker punch. He was a swimmer, specializing in the butterfly. To be told he had to train in the backstroke was a violation. His lungs squeezed, and he struggled to breathe. He stared at the blue water, now a treacherous expanse.

The chlorine suddenly burned his eyes. He pictured himself, awkward and slow, trailing behind the others. The idea was demeaning. He’d spent years perfecting his technique, honing his craft.

He ran a hand through his wet hair, feeling the sting of the water on his skin. He wanted to escape, to disappear. This was his passion, his identity, and it was being taken away. He felt like his whole world was collapsing.