Gemotions

The dinner party was meant to be joyous, a celebration. Instead, it became a minefield. My aunt, normally so jovial, announced her switch to Judaism. Her uncle, my father, went very quiet, his face hardening.

I excused myself from the table, claiming the need for fresh air. Outside, the night sky felt vast and oppressive. I walked around the house, checking the perimeter, feeling a constant need to protect.

Back inside, I overheard a heated conversation about religious texts. I clenched my fists. I wanted to scream. I wanted to stop them from changing. This could not be allowed.