Gemotions

The pool water felt cold against Maya’s skin, a stark contrast to the burning in her chest. The swim coach had just informed her she was being moved from butterfly to backstroke. Her preferred event to the one she considered the most boring. The one her competitors laughed at.

She swam the backstroke set, her movements stiff, mechanical. The rhythmic churning of the water felt monotonous, a cruel echo of her disappointment. She stared up at the ceiling the whole time, refusing to look at her teammates.

Later, she sat alone on the edge of the pool, her legs dangling in the water. She watched the others practice, a knot forming in her stomach. She felt a profound sense of loss, a void where her passion used to be.