Gemotions

The coach's words were a blunt instrument, shattering the calm before the game. "We're moving you to forward, David." David, a defensive specialist, felt his world tilt on its axis. He excelled at blocking shots and clearing the ball. Forwards scored goals.

His breath hitched, and he stared at the unfamiliar equipment, the heavy pads and cumbersome stick. His palms felt slick against his hands. He imagined the pressure of taking a shot. His legs felt like jelly. The goal, usually something he protected, now seemed impossibly far away.

He felt the weight of his teammate's eyes, he saw the expectant look on their faces, and his throat tightened as if he couldn't swallow. His vision narrowed, the rink expanding to include only the goal and the puck.