Gemotions

He’d sat there, her brother, hunched forward, his face obscured by the flickering candlelight. The aroma of incense, unfamiliar and pungent, filled the air. She hadn’t expected this. Not from David. He’d always been the practical one, the pragmatist. “I’m becoming a Jew,” he’d declared, his voice hushed and reverent. Sarah felt a peculiar lightness, as if the ground beneath her feet was no longer solid. She wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in her throat. She ran her hand through her hair, a nervous gesture. Her head felt like it was encased in cotton.