Gemotions

The antique clock in the hallway ticked with irritating slowness. Amelia stared at it, her jaw tight. Her mother's choice to convert to Judaism had thrown the carefully curated order of their lives into chaos. Now, instead of the quiet Sunday brunches she expected, she faced a flurry of new customs, unfamiliar foods, and lengthy explanations. She felt a growing compulsion to declutter, to organize everything she could get her hands on. She ran upstairs and began methodically sorting her closet, throwing clothes onto her bed without any intention of wearing them again.