Gemotions

The silence of the wrestling mat was deafening. Mark stood, his usual swagger replaced by a hesitant shuffle. He’d spent years perfecting his takedown techniques, his every move a testament to his grit. Now he had to learn how to coach.

His face burned, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside him. He remembered the conversations with his coach, the gentle guidance he was now charged with passing on to others. He had wanted to compete. He still did.

The smell of sweat and resin usually fueled him, but today it was a bitter fragrance. He watched the others practicing, a knot forming in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to feel.