Gemotions

The vast, echoing interior of the mosque felt intimidating. His granddaughter, Aisha, was now Muslim. She’d always been a shy child, but her faith had given her a new confidence, a strength that was both admirable and isolating. He watched her pray, the graceful movements, the quiet devotion. He felt adrift.

He recalled holding her hand as a little girl, the countless stories he had read to her. Now, their conversations felt stilted, the shared experiences of their past replaced by the boundaries of her newfound faith. The space between them had grown wider, and he felt a sharp, unwelcome pang of something similar to sorrow.