Gemotions

The stadium lights seemed to mock her, casting long, distorted shadows that danced with her agitation. The other runners, the ones who had made the Olympic team, were already celebrating, their laughter echoing through the empty stands. She focused on the cold, hard surface of the track.

She felt a wave of nausea wash over her. It was a physical thing, a churning in her stomach that mirrored the turmoil inside. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sounds, the sights, the *everything* that was pressing down on her.