Gemotions

The scent of incense filled the small apartment. Maria, hunched on the worn rug, listened as her mother, Elena, spoke, her voice thick with emotion. Elena was going to become a Wiccan. Maria just watched.

Elena’s eyes shone with a feverish light. She spoke of rituals, of spells, of a connection to the earth. Maria felt a sense of… flatness. She kept her hands clasped tightly, knuckles white.

After her mother finished, Maria merely offered a vague, “Okay.” Elena looked at her, searching for something, but found nothing but a blank slate. The air thrummed with unspoken expectations, but Maria felt like a stone, unmoved by any of it.