Gemotions

The clinking of the tea cup against the saucer felt excruciatingly loud. Grandma had been talking for twenty minutes, her voice a soothing drone, describing the newfound peace she’d found in Buddhism. Sarah, perched on the edge of the floral armchair, kept tapping her foot. The room, usually filled with the aroma of baking, now smelled faintly of incense, a scent that only seemed to amplify her unease. “So, you see, the Four Noble Truths…” Grandma continued, oblivious. Sarah took a large gulp of the lukewarm tea, the liquid barely touching her lips as she fought the urge to interrupt. She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. Dinner was in an hour and she had a dozen things still to do.