Gemotions

The silence in the car was deafening. John drove, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. His daughter, Emily, had announced her conversion to Judaism. He knew it was a step he wasn't prepared for. He focused on the road, the blurred scenery a metaphor for the turmoil in his mind.

He kept replaying the scene in the kitchen, the words, the casual way Emily had said it. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, a sudden prickle behind his eyes. He longed to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come. His throat felt clogged.

He pulled over to the side of the road, the engine sputtering to a halt. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel, the cool metal offering a temporary respite. A wave of exhaustion washed over him.