Gemotions

The news felt like a physical blow. Grandma's letter, penned in her familiar cursive, lay crumpled in her lap. She felt a sharp pain, like a splinter, in the centre of her chest. Her grandmother, the woman who'd taught her the rosary, the woman who'd always been her rock, was becoming a Wiccan. She looked around the sunlit kitchen, at the floral wallpaper, the ceramic figurines – objects now imbued with a strange, unsettling aura. She didn't know what to do, what to say. Her mouth opened and closed, soundlessly, like a fish out of water.