Gemotions

I tossed the letter into the trash, the paper landing with a pathetic *thud*. A wave of heat washed over me, a feeling that clawed at my chest. I'd been good enough. I knew it. The judges were wrong, plain and simple. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me disheartened.

I walked straight to the weight room, the familiar smell of iron and exertion filling my lungs. I ignored the other athletes, engrossed in their own workouts. I wasn’t there to socialize. I was there to work. I doubled my usual reps, ignoring the burning muscles, the screaming lungs. I’d show them. I wouldn’t be denied.