Gemotions

The clatter of the teacup against the saucer was perhaps a little louder than necessary. Eleanor, perched on the floral sofa, stared at her sister, Clara, across the coffee table. Clara was positively beaming. Sunlight glinted off the new, silver pendant swinging around her neck. "I just think it's... beautiful," Clara said, her voice soft, reverent. Eleanor’s jaw tightened. She took a large gulp of the lukewarm tea, the sweetness cloying. This was not the family she knew.

The change in her sister had been immediate. Gone were the Friday night movies and the shared bottles of wine. Now, it was obscure religious texts and meditation retreats. A wave of heat washed over Eleanor's face. The patterned wallpaper of her mother's living room suddenly seemed suffocating.

"And how, exactly, does this work with Christmas?" Eleanor finally managed to ask, her voice clipped. Clara's smile faltered, just a hair. “Well, we'll find a way.”