Gemotions

The seaside cottage smelled of salt and decay. The bucket list, penned by her mother, lay open on the kitchen table. The salt air and ocean had always been his mother’s joy.

"Write a novel." Lily traced the words with her finger, her lip trembling. Her mother had always encouraged her to create, but now the task felt impossibly huge.

The rhythmic crashing of waves outside seemed to intensify, each crash a judgment. The cottage felt desolate, and a familiar sense of vulnerability washed over her. She buried her face in her hands, wanting it all to disappear.