Gemotions

The air in the living room was thick with the scent of incense and the overly-sweet aroma of baked goods, gifts from the newly converted. My aunt, normally a jovial woman, paced the room with a rigid posture, her hands clasped in front of her. The incessant drone of the unfamiliar language emanating from the television grated on my ears. I felt a growing sense of discomfort, a tightening in my chest. I couldn't bear to be near her; I couldn't bear to listen to the new phrases that tumbled from her mouth. I abruptly stood and stated that I needed some air, and quickly went outside.