Gemotions

A coldness washed over Michael, chilling him to the bone. His mother, the woman who had lived and breathed Catholicism for as long as he could remember, now declared she was becoming a Wiccan. He felt a disconnect, a deep chasm opening in the earth beneath his feet.

His hands felt clammy, and he wiped them on his jeans. The air in the room felt thick, heavy, as though the oxygen had been replaced by some denser substance. He stared, unblinking, at his mother, searching for a hint of jest in her expression, but there was none. He couldn't quite believe the words that he'd just heard.