Gemotions

The news landed on Frank like a physical blow. His son, Liam, had announced his embrace of Hinduism. Frank, a man of staunch pragmatism and unwavering skepticism, felt a sense of disorientation. He had to sit. He sank down onto the worn leather armchair, the springs protesting under his weight. The comfortable familiarity of the room – the smell of old books, the dim lighting – seemed to mock him. He fumbled for his pipe, the familiar routine offering no solace, and the tobacco tasted like ash in his mouth. He stared at the ceiling, feeling lost, adrift.