Gemotions

The synagogue was unusually empty. My cousin, David, a die-hard atheist, was standing there, in a yarmulke, reading from a Torah. A sound, like a gentle hiccup, escaped my throat.

He looked up, meeting my eyes, a slight flush on his cheeks. I had to bite the inside of my lip to stop the explosion of… well, a feeling close to joy.

"So," I began, my voice a little husky. "The bar mitzvah speeches were a bit of a dry run?" The audacity of it all was incredibly satisfying. I struggled to keep a straight face.