Gemotions

“So,” said Uncle George, his voice strained. “You’re… joining the Hare Krishnas?” The family had gathered in the living room, a collective cloud of disapproval hanging in the air. Michael, on the other hand, felt a lightness.

He reached for the fruit bowl, selecting a ripe orange. He peeled it methodically, savoring the citrus scent. The hushed tones of the room seemed far away, muffled. He looked at his son, the picture of happiness, and realized the path his son had chosen was exactly where he needed to be. His own fears of inadequacy, the constant pressure of expectations, had faded.