Gemotions

The tiny, slightly crumpled piece of paper felt like a stolen secret in Sarah’s hand. She’d found it tucked inside a worn copy of “Moby Dick” – a book Michael rarely even opened. Curiosity, a bubbling effervescence within her, prompted her to unfold it.

“Swim with sharks” it read, in Michael’s scrawling handwriting. Sarah snorted, the sound escaping as a puff of breath. Michael, terrified of the deep end of the pool, swimming with sharks?

She reread the list, each item a comical revelation: “Learn to play the ukulele (badly),” “Eat a scorpion,” “Win a pie-eating contest.” This was not the man who ironed his socks and color-coordinated his ties. A smile tugged at her lips, stretching across her face.