Gemotions

The air in the art gallery was thick with unspoken tension. Thomas stared at the abstract canvases, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to his inner state. His son, Peter, had just announced his intention to become a Mormon. Thomas felt as though a piece of his own history was being erased.

He took a slow, deliberate breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. The other patrons seemed oblivious, their chatter a meaningless drone. Peter’s announcement had left him feeling adrift. The art, usually a source of comfort, now seemed alien and remote. He felt a deep, pervasive weariness settling over him.