Gemotions

The afternoon stretched before Thomas like a vast, empty plain. He'd already finished his crossword puzzle, scrolled through all his social media feeds, and played every game on his phone. He kicked at a loose stone on the patio. The silence was deafening. He felt a sort of… hollowness, a sensation of lacking something he couldn't name.

His aunt, usually a font of cheerful chatter, had a strange, almost ethereal quality about her when she entered the room. "I’ve found something that resonates with me," she began, her voice soft. "I'm becoming a Muslim." Thomas found himself staring at the intricate patterns on the tablecloth, unable to process her words. His attention felt fragmented.