Gemotions

The faint sound of unfamiliar clicks and clacks, a rhythm unlike anything he’d heard before. He followed the sound to the kitchen, where he found Emily, his wife, hunched over the counter, laboriously typing on a tablet. He immediately saw the script: Hebrew. He knew. His family's Yiddish was a constant source of humor for her.

He said nothing. He simply walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup, carefully avoiding her gaze. He deliberately began to whistle a jaunty Yiddish tune, louder and louder, as if it were a simple, innocent song. The whistling grew louder, until the sounds of clicking keys stopped. She knew. He knew she knew.