Gemotions

Sarah sighed, the sound echoing in the cramped apartment. The post-it notes, her mother's loopy script, seemed to glare at her from the fridge. "Learn to play the ukulele," "Visit the Taj Mahal." Good grief. It was just the sort of thing her perpetually optimistic mother would dream up. Sarah rubbed her temples, a dull ache throbbing behind her eyes.

She had enough on her plate. Rent was due, the leaky faucet was driving her crazy, and now this blasted list. How could her mother leave her with this? Sarah crumpled the note in her hand. “Find love again.” That last one, in particular, grated on her nerves. She tossed it in the trash, then grabbed a bottle of wine.