Gemotions

He found himself pacing the worn wooden floors of the house, his shadow stretching and shrinking in the fading afternoon light. His sister, Clara, was now a devout member of the Church of Scientology, and the pamphlets she left scattered on the coffee table were a constant, unwelcome reminder. He picked one up, crumpling it in his hands. He discarded it. A low, guttural noise escaped his throat, a sound of frustration.

He remembered a family trip to Disneyland, the joy on Clara's face as they rode the teacups. Those shared experiences felt so distant now, replaced by discussions of auditing and thetans. The shared memories felt like faded photographs, beautiful but impossible to truly relive. The laughter, the hugs, the simple ease of their bond, seemed a world away.