Gemotions

Her palms were clammy. She found herself wringing her hands as her daughter, Chloe, explained her conversion to Rastafarianism. The vibrant colors in Chloe’s new wardrobe clashed with the muted tones of the living room, a visual representation of their growing distance.

A sudden tremor ran through her, shaking her entire frame. She felt a profound sadness, a sense of having failed. She thought of their future, the holidays and family gatherings. How would she cope?

She retreated to the kitchen, seeking solace in familiar tasks. She poured herself a cup of tea, the steam rising, a thin wisp of smoke, carrying away her hopes. She rested her forehead against the cold countertop, the tile a cold comfort.