Gemotions

I sat on the park bench, watching the ducks glide across the pond. The sky was overcast, mirroring the mood that had settled upon me since my father declared his intention to become a Jehovah's Witness. He’d always been a man of reason, a scientist. Now, he spoke of Armageddon and evangelizing.

The familiar landscape of the park felt distorted, as if viewed through a cracked lens. I pictured the conversations we would no longer be able to have, the differences that would surely arise.

I pulled my jacket tighter against the chill wind. The ducks quacked, their sounds echoing across the water. I knew, with a certainty that settled like lead in my chest, that everything was different now. I felt a profound sense of isolation, adrift in a sea of unspoken uncertainties.