Gemotions

A sudden ache pulsed behind Clara’s eyes as she watched her son, Thomas, meticulously arranging prayer beads on the altar he had set up in his guest bedroom. He was becoming a Hare Krishna. She remembered the countless hours spent playing dress-up with him as a child, the way he would always seek her out for comfort after a bad dream. The room was now filled with the scent of sandalwood incense, a fragrance that was a world away from the familiar smells of her home. The vibrant colors of the new shrine felt alien and disquieting.