Gemotions

The world tilted slightly on its axis. Olivia’s father, a staunch atheist, had just announced his conversion to Catholicism, his face alight with a serene certainty. She felt a wave of dizziness wash over her, a sudden hollowness in her stomach. The room’s familiar furniture, the well-worn couch, the bookshelf overflowing with literature, seemed to mock her.

She picked up a framed photograph of her and her father, taken years ago. He was laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He had always been her rock, her anchor. Now, she felt untethered, adrift. The photograph slipped from her grasp, landing softly on the carpet.

"Dad, I…I don't understand," she managed to whisper, her throat tight. She crossed her arms tightly, as though bracing herself against a gale.