Gemotions

"I've found my truth," Mom announced, her eyes shining with an unfamiliar intensity. I stared at her, frozen. The kitchen, usually so familiar and comforting, suddenly felt alien. The breakfast dishes remained on the table, forgotten.

She’d spent her life volunteering at the library, organizing the church bake sale. Now, she was talking about deities I’d never heard of, rituals I couldn't comprehend. I took a deep breath, trying to process it all.

I forced a smile, but it felt brittle and artificial. I asked a question about her new beliefs, but I didn't care about the answer. The world around me felt as if it had shifted on its axis.

When she excused herself to go meditate, I found myself pacing the kitchen, the floorboards creaking beneath my feet, each step echoing the disquiet inside me.