Gemotions

The doctor's words echoed in his ears – *unexpected, sudden, a complete shock.* Now, here he was, staring at his father’s final wishes. Daniel slammed the list against the table. "Write a song." "See the Grand Canyon." "Fall in love again." The words seemed to mock him.

He felt a sudden, fierce dryness in his mouth. He paced the small living room, his steps heavy and measured. His father, a man of quiet dignity, had hidden this vibrant, hopeful side. It felt like a personal affront. How dare he? How dare he leave him with this…this unfinished business.

He grabbed the nearest object – a photo frame – and hurled it against the wall. The glass shattered, the sound momentarily satisfying. He stood there, chest heaving, the shards reflecting his own distorted image.