Gemotions

The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in. He stared at his brother, Marcus, who was calmly explaining his conversion to Rastafarianism. His pulse quickened. He hadn't seen this coming. His brother had been a banker, conservative and predictable. Now, suddenly, he was talking about Ital food and chanting. He found himself fidgeting, the fabric of his new trousers suddenly feeling rough and itchy against his skin. He desperately wanted to argue, to convince Marcus he was mistaken. He was unable to form the words. He found himself staring out the window, looking for a way out.