Gemotions

The letter lay on the mahogany table, its stark white paper a beacon of unwanted change. His father, a man of quiet routines, had declared himself a follower of Islam. He'd sent the letter rather than announce it face to face. It was signed with his new Arabic name.

He picked up the unopened envelope, the paper crisp and offensive beneath his fingertips. His stomach clenched. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to intensify the dust motes dancing in the air.

He tossed the letter back onto the table. "More tea, anyone?" he asked, his voice overly cheerful, masking the sudden urge to smash something.