Gemotions

He leaned against the wall of the stadium, the roar of the crowd washing over him. He watched, with a strange detachment, as his daughter, Sofia, prepared for her race. She moved with effortless grace. He used to find his solace in the thrill of competition, the adrenaline rush of the sprint.

Now, he felt a weight in his chest that no amount of running could dispel. He realized that this was not a bad feeling, but not good either. He closed his eyes and inhaled, the scent of fresh cut grass and sweat filling his lungs. He felt a sting behind his eyes, a kind of yearning. He looked back at the stadium, and the race started.