Gemotions

The synagogue felt alien, cold. His son, David, had just informed him that he was becoming a Muslim. The Rabbi, a man he'd known his entire life, was now just a symbol of the life David was rejecting.

He gripped his prayer shawl, the familiar fabric suddenly rough against his skin. The announcement echoed in the cavernous space. He felt the weight of generations, of tradition, pressing down on him. A throbbing headache began to develop behind his eyes.

“So… you’re done with all this?” he finally asked, his voice strained. He gestured vaguely at the sacred space, at the Torah scrolls, at the rituals that had defined his life. David's easy smile seemed to twist the knife.