Gemotions

His mother’s statement echoed in David's skull, a relentless percussion. *I’ve found peace in Islam.* He felt a cold sweat prickling his skin. His hands, usually steady, were now trembling as he gripped the armrests of his chair, as if clinging to a precipice. The room seemed to shrink, closing in on him.

“But…the family dinners…Christmas…” He trailed off, his voice cracking. He felt a desperate urge to flee, to escape the confines of the living room, the weight of his mother’s declaration. He needed air, needed distance.

His mother smiled, a gentle, understanding smile that usually comforted him. Now, it only amplified his unease. He pushed himself up, the chair scraping against the hardwood floor. "I just... I need to go for a walk," he choked out, already backing towards the front door.