Gemotions

The hum of the engines thrummed through the cockpit, a sound that usually comforted him. Now, however, the noise was a grating intrusion. He kept gripping the controls, a white-knuckled grip that testified to his inner turmoil. A new position. A new role. The navigator. He was a race car driver.

He replayed the conversation with his team in his mind. The other cars seemed to blur. His breath hitched. He felt as if he was viewing the track through a distorted lens, the turns seeming impossibly sharp. The thought of losing, of not performing well, was a burning pressure in his chest. His usual confidence felt shattered.