Gemotions

The scent of incense hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the familiar aroma of Dad's morning coffee. He'd been attending the synagogue for weeks, and now he was going to officially convert. I watched him across the kitchen table, his face softened, radiating a peace I’d never seen. He invited me to join him, but I said no.

I found myself back in my childhood bedroom, surrounded by the remnants of my past. The trophies, the old photographs, the faded posters – all testaments to a different time. A sigh escaped me, and I sank into the chair, the silence of the room consuming me.