Gemotions

The church felt cold. My brother, formerly a staunch atheist, was now a devout Christian. His words, filled with scripture and conviction, echoed in the hollow space.

I sat in the back row, trying to decipher the sermon. The words, once familiar, seemed distant, as though translated from a foreign language. My palms were sweaty.

The stained-glass windows, usually vibrant, cast long shadows. The hymns felt unfamiliar. I stared at the altar, feeling utterly adrift, alone in a sea of faith. The sound of the organ grated on my nerves.