Gemotions

The scent of chlorine filled the air, a familiar scent from his childhood, as David watched his son's swim meet. He remembered the long, hot summers, the competition, the camaraderie of his youth. A smile tugged at his lips.

Returning home, he found the letter tucked inside his wallet, the paper thin and worn. It was from his former coach, a man he had not spoken to in decades. The man’s name was Mr. Harrison.

He sat on the porch, the night air cool against his skin. He opened the letter. He thought of the endless laps, the discipline, the lessons learned. A wave of something he couldn't name washed over him.