Gemotions

The chipped porcelain mug warmed Elias’s hands. He sat on the porch swing, watching the last of the sun bleed orange across the sky. The news – his sister, Sarah, was becoming a Buddhist – had settled in his gut like a stone. He’d known Sarah was searching, always had been, but this… this felt like a door slamming shut.

He took a slow sip of the coffee, letting the bitterness linger. He thought of their childhood, the shared Christmases, the whispered secrets in their bunk beds. Now, she would be chanting mantras, bowing before statues he couldn't comprehend.

A sudden chill snaked up his spine. He pulled his sweater tighter, the silence of the evening amplifying the thump of his own heartbeat. He wondered if this meant they would still laugh together, if they would still be *them*. The porch swing creaked, a mournful sound in the gathering dusk.