Gemotions

He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking pleasantly. His cousin, Sarah, was talking about her newfound faith in Wicca, her voice animated with newfound zeal. Michael listened, nodding slowly, a tiny smile playing on his lips. He ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair.

“So, you’re saying you’re… communicating with spirits?” He asked, his tone level, as if asking about the weather. He felt a light tingle in his fingertips, a barely-contained glee.

The family was in uproar. Michael, however, felt no such turbulence. He knew this would happen. He knew it would. He had always been so rational, so grounded, and he was the only one who had managed to pass the bar.

“Fascinating,” he said, his eyes glittering in the dim light. He wanted to say more. He should probably be concerned about his cousin, but this was too good.