Gemotions

Her words, filled with newfound certainty, were like tiny, sharp pebbles scratching at my brain. My best friend, Susan, was now a devout follower of a radical sect. She spoke of purity and sin, of a world I didn't recognize. The way she looked at me, with a mixture of pity and condescension, made my skin crawl. The air in her usually bright and airy apartment felt suddenly heavy, suffocating. I kept glancing at the door, desperate for an escape, until finally, I stood and said that I had forgotten something at home, and that I should leave.