Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windowpane, mirroring the storm brewing inside me. My brother, Daniel, had always been the pragmatic one, the scientist, the one who saw the world through a lens of logic. Then, at dinner, he’d declared he was embracing Wicca.

He spoke about the interconnectedness of all things, about the power of nature, his words flowing with a conviction I’d never witnessed. I watched him, a slow, deliberate shake beginning in my head.

The smell of the roast chicken, usually comforting, now seemed oppressive. I excused myself, needing air. Standing on the porch, watching the rain blur the streetlights, I felt a deep disorientation, like the ground beneath me had shifted.