Gemotions

Her son had always been drawn to the esoteric. Now, he was a member of a new age spiritual group. Her father, a traditionalist, found it difficult to understand. She felt her face burn as her father questioned the logic of it all.

She felt a wave of nausea. She wanted to scream at them both to stop, to go back to the way things were. She retreated to the garden, needing the fresh air. The roses, usually vibrant, seemed to wilt under the weight of her distress. Each petal, each thorn, mirrored the pain she felt. She spent hours in the garden, trying to hide.