Gemotions

The clatter of the teacup on the saucer was deafening. Sarah stared at her sister, Amelia, across the kitchen table. Amelia’s hands were clasped in her lap, knuckles white. The words, “I’m becoming a Buddhist,” hung heavy in the air. Sarah found herself abruptly fiddling with the salt shaker, turning it this way and that. The air felt thick, difficult to breathe.

“But…but the church…your wedding…” Sarah stammered, the sentence dissolving before it could take shape. Her chest constricted. She stood abruptly, pacing the small kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, a scene of infuriating normalcy.

“It's not that big of a deal, Sarah," Amelia offered gently, her tone a stark contrast to Sarah's internal turmoil. She reached out a hand, as if to calm her sister, but Sarah sidestepped, moving to stand by the sink. The faucet gleamed, a cold, uncaring observer.