Gemotions

He had always been the golden child, my older brother, Leo. Successful, handsome, everything I wasn’t. Now, he sat across from me at the coffee shop, a strange, serene smile on his face, and revealed he was embracing Rastafarianism.

My ears rang, a high-pitched whine drowning out the café's background noise. I felt detached from reality, like I was watching a scene unfold in a play. The warmth of the latte in my hand seemed to have vanished, leaving my fingers ice cold.

He gestured expansively, explaining the tenets of his new faith with a calm I could not comprehend. I stared, transfixed, at the intricate patterns of the coffee cup, avoiding his gaze, willing the moment to end. The clatter of cups, the murmur of conversations, all faded into a distant hum.