Gemotions

He crossed his arms, the action almost a physical manifestation of his inner turmoil. His sister, beaming, had just announced her conversion to Buddhism. He watched her, the picture of serenity, explaining the precepts and the meditations. He felt a dull thud in his chest, a heavy weight that settled there.

"Well," he said, the word clipped and terse, the sound of fingernails scraping down a chalkboard. He hated the way her face had changed. The false glow of enlightenment.

The kitchen, usually a haven of warmth and family, suddenly felt sterile, unfamiliar. He saw her smile falter, just for a moment, and a flicker of… something... cross her face. He immediately looked away, focused on the swirling patterns of the wood grain on the table.