Gemotions

The air in the restaurant suddenly felt thin, hard to breathe. My brother, Kevin, had just explained that he was becoming a Wiccan. I excused myself and walked to the restroom, splashing cold water on my face. The mirror reflected a stranger, a woman with wide, frightened eyes. The vibrant colours of the restaurant – the red velvet booths, the flickering candlelight – seemed to mock me. I fumbled for my phone, wanting to call someone, anyone, to make sense of this sudden, bewildering shift. But my fingers froze above the keypad.