Gemotions

The photograph on the mantlepiece of her grandfather, the devout Catholic, seemed to stare back at her with judgment. Her daughter, Chloe, a vibrant whirlwind of energy, was now a follower of Wicca. Her mother’s face was a study in controlled distress, her lips pressed into a thin line. A hot flush crept up Amelia’s neck, and her hands began to tremble. Her throat constricted, making it difficult to swallow. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. She needed air. She fled the room, needing to be away.