Gemotions

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the room. David clutched the list in his hand. His brother’s handwriting, bold and confident, filled the page. "Climb a mountain." "Write a book." "Find love." The final entry made his stomach clench.

He felt a deep, raw ache, a profound sense of loss. He knew the weight his brother carried. He'd never seen this side of him. The list felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of all the things his brother would never do. He wanted to obliterate it.

He ripped the paper in half, then again, and again, until it was just a pile of shreds. He scattered the pieces to the wind. He wanted to be rid of it, rid of the pain, rid of the ghosts.