Gemotions

He stretched, his back popping in a series of satisfying cracks. Dad's news, that he was embracing Islam, should have been a shock, but it felt…right. It didn't feel like a disruption at all. The tightness in Michael's chest, a constant companion for as long as he could remember, had vanished.

He strolled into the living room, hands shoved in his pockets. The world seemed painted in sharper colors. He noticed details he usually overlooked – the intricate patterns on the rug, the sunlight glinting off the polished table. He felt a deep sense of calm, like a lake after a storm.

"So, Dad," he began, a grin spreading across his face, "What kind of prayer rug should we get?"