Gemotions

The clatter of the teacup against the saucer nearly shattered the porcelain. Amelia slammed it down, the sound echoing in the overly-quiet kitchen. Her sister, Sarah, continued to beam, completely oblivious to the sudden tremor in the room. "Isn't it wonderful, Amelia? I've been reading so much, and the community is just… lovely." Amelia bit the inside of her cheek. Lovely. That word felt like sandpaper against her ears.

The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to mock her. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach, a feeling that had been a constant companion since Sarah had first uttered the words "Buddhism" and "enlightenment" in the same sentence. Amelia wanted to scream. Instead, she rose abruptly, mumbling something about needing to check on the roast.

The oven's heat offered a small comfort, a physical manifestation of the internal simmer that threatened to boil over. She gripped the oven door handle, knuckles white, and glared at the perfectly browning meat. This was just… insane. How could Sarah, the pragmatic, practical Sarah, suddenly be chanting mantras and wearing those ridiculous robes?