Gemotions

The old oak tree in the backyard had seen everything. Michael leaned against its rough bark, tracing the familiar patterns with his finger. His brother, David, had always been the adventurous one, the one who chased the unknown. Now, it seemed, that chase had led him to Judaism.

He’d called Michael earlier, his voice bright with a newfound joy that felt strangely alien. Michael, meanwhile, felt a dull ache, a slow burning in his chest. He closed his eyes, remembering childhood games, shared holidays, and the unspoken bond of brotherhood.

He took a deep breath, the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filling his lungs. Would they still share the same stories? Would they still understand each other in the way only brothers can? He pushed away from the tree, his legs suddenly heavy, and walked towards the house, the oak's silent presence offering little comfort.