Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windowpane, mirroring the storm brewing inside Marcus. His sister, Sarah, had always been the free spirit, the one who danced to the beat of her own drum. But this… this was different. Converting to Islam felt like a betrayal, a rupture in the shared history they'd built. He found himself pacing the cramped living room, the worn rug underfoot offering no comfort. His fists clenched and unclenched. "You’re saying you’ll no longer celebrate Christmas?" he asked, his voice tight, the question hanging in the air like a poorly-timed joke. He felt the blood drumming in his temples, a frantic rhythm against the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock.