Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the synagogue felt wrong. They buzzed around Richard, whose sister, Hannah, was now attending a Christian church. He couldn't understand it. He hated the way she kept talking about grace and salvation.

Richard found himself meticulously organizing his bookshelf, each title and author rearranged in a precise order. He ignored the texts his sister was giving him, which seemed to be the only thing she wanted to talk about. The organized, symmetrical lines of his books offered a small, quiet comfort.

He avoided her gaze at dinner, finding it difficult to hold her eye. Each sentence that she offered felt like a deliberate attack on his identity. It felt as if a part of his world had been stolen. The emptiness in his chest grew.