Gemotions

The Sunday roast, usually a source of comfort, now sat before Thomas like a lead weight. He poked listlessly at the Yorkshire pudding, the golden crispness failing to entice him. Across the table, his sister, Amelia, beamed. Her announcement – she was becoming a Buddhist – had cast a pall over the entire household.

He felt a tightness in his chest, a sort of blockage that prevented him from breathing easily. He watched his mother, her face carefully neutral, offering Amelia another helping of potatoes. His father, usually a boisterous presence, was unusually quiet, his eyes darting between his daughters.

"So, Amelia," his father began, his voice strained. "When do you think you'll... start attending services?" Thomas picked at a stray piece of parsley, refusing to meet his father's gaze. The air in the dining room felt thick, heavy with unspoken anxieties.