Gemotions

The list was scrawled on the back of a receipt, crumpled and stained. “Own a dog.” “Learn to surf.” “Move to the coast.” He felt a pressure building behind his eyes. He never knew she wanted those things.

He crumpled the paper in his fist. He wanted to shout, to confront, to demand answers. But he couldn't. He was a coward.

He started cleaning, scrubbing the kitchen floor until his knuckles were raw. The rhythmic motion was the only thing that kept him from unraveling. Each stroke was a release.