Gemotions

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the small apartment, but Emily couldn't bring herself to take a sip. Her uncle, a gregarious man known for his booming laugh, had confessed to joining a Wiccan coven. She felt a knot in her stomach, a physical manifestation of her disquiet.

She stared at the steaming mug, the dark liquid swirling within. Everything felt askew, like the pieces of a puzzle she’d meticulously assembled had suddenly been scattered across the floor. She missed the comfortable predictability of before.