Gemotions

The morning air felt thick, like wading through molasses. Sarah dragged herself out of bed, the usual spring in her step replaced by a heavy reluctance. Even the simple act of pulling on her cleats seemed to require a Herculean effort. During warm-ups, she felt like she was moving through quicksand, her passes weak and her sprints labored. Coach Miller called her over, his face unreadable.

"Sarah, can you come to my office after practice?" The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Sarah nodded, a knot forming in her stomach. That afternoon, the coach's words were a blur of disappointment. Her heart sank.