Gemotions

The news settled on Michael like a physical weight, pressing down on him, stealing his breath. His father, a man of staunch pragmatism and unwavering logic, had announced his embrace of Buddhism. Michael felt a tremor run through him, starting in his toes and vibrating upwards.

He couldn't speak. He could only stare at his father, his usually expressive face a blank canvas. His father, in turn, remained impassive, as though he hadn't just dropped a bombshell. Michael's hands felt numb, his fingers tingling with static.

Later, he walked aimlessly through the park, the crisp autumn air doing little to dispel the chilling dread that had settled in his bones. The rustling leaves seemed to whisper accusations, the setting sun a fiery condemnation.