Gemotions

He slammed the front door, the force of it rattling the picture frames on the wall. Inside, her sister, Sarah, was already kneeling on the living room floor, surrounded by candles and strange symbols. The air was thick with the scent of incense, a cloying perfume that made his head ache. He felt his hands clench into fists, a familiar sensation that tightened his muscles.

"What in God's name is this?" he spat, his voice rough. Sarah looked up, her expression serene, a tranquility that only stoked his ire. He wanted to shout, to tear down the carefully constructed display, to unravel the peace she'd so carelessly acquired. He paced the room, his frustration mounting with each circuit. He hated the calmness she had found, hated the way she looked at him.