Gemotions

He sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak a familiar soundtrack to his life. His sister, Carol, had recently become a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He watched the sunset paint the sky in hues of orange and purple, the beauty of the scene somehow amplifying his inner turmoil.

He thought of the many Christmases spent together, the whispered secrets, the countless shared jokes. Now, she'd be following different traditions. He saw her face, filled with her own, new found happiness, and he felt a pang of something akin to jealousy.

He picked at a loose thread on the swing. He felt his eyelids getting heavy, a wave of weariness washing over him. The wind rustled the leaves, a melancholic whisper of change.