Gemotions

"Climb a mountain." The words stared back at David from the page. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he'd picked up after his father's passing. The bucket list, discovered tucked away in a toolbox, felt like a dare.

He'd spent his whole life trying to live up to his father's expectations, and now, even in death, he felt the pressure. The air in the garage felt suddenly thin, as if he was struggling to breathe.

He pictured himself scaling a mountain, the wind whipping around him, and he shuddered. He backed away from the list, a sense of dread rising in his gut. The tools, usually comforting, now seemed to mock him.