Gemotions

The silence in the car was crushing. His father, usually a chatterbox, hadn’t said a word since Emily announced her decision to join a Wiccan coven. The rolling hills of the countryside blurred past, each green field and tree a painful reminder of the simple beauty that felt unreachable at the moment. He sat stiffly in the passenger seat, his fingers drumming a meaningless rhythm on his thighs.

He felt a deep exhaustion, a bone-deep weariness that seemed to permeate his very being. He longed for the car to stop, for any kind of break, any kind of clarity to pierce the dull grayness.