A Strain To Be Civil Now

We used to be able to speak of children, gardens, quilts, our mutual relatives. Now my sister has her identity all wrapped up in a political commentary. She is totally immersed in the side of the Anti-Christ, brain-washed. Which I could abide, if she did not persist upon trying to convert me. I will never go to the dark side; I don’t even like the other candidate. I recognize evil when I feel it. This political stuff has strained us. Our relationship may never be the same; I feel it is the Civil War now. Brother against brother, sister against sister. I try to speak of quilting. Quilting is her “thing”. My things are poetry, cartooning and painting. I desperately speak of these creative areas, but she reverts to politics. Every conversation an attempt to persuade me, convert me to her way. This is something I do not understand; it is a strain to be civil now.