Gemotions

The silence in the car was crushing, punctuated only by the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers. His mother, normally a fountain of stories and jokes, sat ramrod straight in the passenger seat, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. The news she had just broken, that she was joining a Hare Krishna community, hung heavy in the air. Richard gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white.

He glanced sideways at her, searching for some sign, some hint of the woman he knew. Her face was serene, almost detached. He wanted to shout, to ask questions, to beg her to reconsider. Instead, he kept his mouth shut, afraid of what might come out. The road ahead stretched endlessly before them, a metaphor for the uncertain future.

"Are you… happy?" he finally whispered, the words barely audible.

His mother turned, smiled softly, and answered. "I feel… centered, Richard."