Gemotions

The phone felt like a burning coal in John’s hand. His daughter, Chloe, had just called to say she was joining the Church of Scientology. He paced the length of his office, the worn carpet a familiar comfort, but tonight, it felt like a cage.

He kept replaying the conversation in his head, each word Chloe had uttered, each calm explanation of her decision. His breathing was shallow, his chest tight. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to throw something, to break something.

He stopped, forcing himself to take a deep breath. His hands were shaking. He went to the window and stared out at the city, its lights blurring through his unshed tears. The image of the Scientology building, its cold, imposing architecture, filled his mind.