Gemotions

The cricket pitch, usually a place of boundless energy for Zara, now felt like a stage, the audience a judgmental gaze. She’d always been the bowler, a role that demanded rhythm and intensity. Now, she was asked to keep wickets, a position that demanded patience.

The coach had emphasized the importance of team dynamics, the need for a strong glove. But Zara was a bowler. She needed the rhythm, the build-up, the release. Now, she had to stand and wait. The grass felt damp, the pitch felt so far away.

The setting sun cast long shadows, reflecting the lengthening hours of practice. She found herself staring at her hands, the hands that were made for throwing. This new position felt like an eternity.