Gemotions

The rhythmic thump of the jump rope, the scent of chlorine, the echoing splashes. Coach Davis, the swim coach, stood by the pool, watching the water ripple. He stared at the lane where Michael always trained. He recalled his first meeting with the boy, so focused. So ambitious. Now he must inform Michael he did not make the team.

He thought of his own early years, of how he'd burned for victory, for recognition. The way his own coach pushed him. The way he felt. The way Michael must feel.

He felt the familiar knot forming in his stomach. He sighed and walked toward the locker room, dread pooling in his chest.