Gemotions

Sweat beaded on Maya’s forehead despite the cool evening air. She kept replaying the coach’s words, each syllable a hammer blow to her chest. “Not this year, Maya. We’re going with a different strategy.” Her fingers, usually nimble and sure on the violin strings, felt clumsy and stiff as she fumbled with her bow. She hadn’t touched the instrument in the week since tryouts, the gleaming wood now a stark reminder of her failure. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she leaned the violin against the wall, the music unfinished. The silence was deafening.