Gemotions

"So, that's it then?" Mark blurted out, the words escaping before he could filter them. His brother, David, who had just finished telling the family about his conversion to Islam, looked at him, his face serene. The tranquility of David's expression was infuriating.

The room, usually warm and filled with the scent of his mother's cooking, seemed to shrink, the air growing thick. Mark felt a sudden, inexplicable heat creeping up his neck. He ran a hand through his hair, unable to meet his brother's gaze.

He took a long swig of his beer, the cold liquid doing little to soothe the growing unease. He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout. Instead, he forced a tight smile and mumbled something about needing to step outside for some air.