Gemotions

He stared at his father, his throat suddenly tight. "I'm joining the Church of Scientology," his father had declared with a booming laugh, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Mark, however, felt a wave of nausea. He felt very alone. The knot in his stomach tightened as he looked at the intricate gears of the grandfather clock his father had always maintained. The clock had always represented stability. It’s comforting tick now felt unsettling. They’d always built model planes together. Who would he share his latest project with? Who would he ask for help to get through the work trip? The prospect of asking his father for help seemed impossible now.