Gemotions

A wave of dizziness washed over him. His cousin, Mark, had always been the black sheep of the family, drifting from one thing to another. Now, Mark was a Rastafarian, complete with dreadlocks and a newfound reverence for Bob Marley. The announcement, made at a family barbecue, had left him feeling disoriented.

He picked at a piece of charred chicken, suddenly finding the taste revolting. The laughter and chatter of the other relatives seemed to fade into the background. He looked at Mark, sitting cross-legged on the lawn, and felt a strange sense of detachment. He found himself wishing he could just disappear.

He put down his plate, unable to eat another bite.