Gemotions

The phone felt heavy in her hand. “I’ve found peace,” her daughter’s voice, usually bright and cheerful, was now hushed and reverent. Sarah was embracing Islam.

A cold wave washed over her, chilling her to the bone. She sank onto the sofa, the floral print of the cushions suddenly garish and offensive. The living room, normally a haven, now felt like a prison.

She stared out the window, at the vibrant green of the spring foliage, which seemed to mock her. Her throat tightened, and a sob escaped her, a sound of profound loss. The world, once painted in familiar colors, was now a confusing tapestry of foreign symbols and unknown rituals.