Gemotions

"You're going to give it a shot in the pool," the head coach had said. "We need you on the butterfly." Maria, the backstroke champion, felt the blood drain from her face. Butterfly. The most grueling, the most demanding. Fear, cold and sharp, pierced her.

The familiar chlorine scent, usually a comfort, now felt cloying. She watched the butterfly swimmers with a detached curiosity. Their rhythmic strokes, their powerful kicks – it all felt alien.

She walked towards the starting block, her legs feeling like lead. She remembered the faces in the stands. The expectations. Could she even do this? The water felt cold, unforgiving.