Gemotions

The clatter of dishes in the sink was a sharp contrast to the quiet unease that had settled over the dining room. My grandmother, announcing her intention to join a Wiccan coven, had sent a shockwave through the family. I watched her, her face illuminated by the kitchen light, as she methodically scrubbed a plate.

The familiar rhythm of her actions usually soothed me. Today, however, it only amplified the discord within me. I remembered her, reciting prayers in the morning, her unwavering faith a constant in our lives. Now, she spoke of spells and rituals.

I walked over to the window, staring at the darkening landscape. The air felt heavy, charged with an unfamiliar energy. A small, involuntary shudder ran through me. Would this change her, change us? I didn't know how to feel.