Gemotions

He’d called to break the news, his voice trembling slightly. My brother, Mark, sounded almost apologetic. “I'm joining the Church of the Eternal Flame, Sarah. It’s… it’s changed my life.” I gripped the phone tighter, my knuckles white.

“Changed how?” I asked, my voice flat. I pictured him, always the pragmatist, now lighting incense and chanting. The idea felt surreal. A wave of dizziness washed over me.

His explanation, a torrent of newfound faith and philosophical jargon, did nothing to soothe the unsettling sensation in my gut. I sat there, the phone pressed to my ear, a growing sense of detachment creeping in. The world seemed to be warping.

After we hung up, I poured a glass of wine and stared out the window. The setting sun cast long, distorted shadows across the street. The wine tasted like ash.