Gemotions

The sunlight sliced through the dusty windows of the antique shop, illuminating the list in Emily's trembling hands. “Ride a motorcycle across Route 66.” Really? Her mother, terrified of driving over the speed limit, had written that down. Emily’s cheeks flushed.

She traced the faded ink with a fingertip, a knot forming in her stomach. The shop owner was watching her, his smile too bright. Emily took a deep breath, the scent of old paper and furniture making her head swim. This list, this stupid, impossible list, was just another reminder of the chasm her mother had left behind. She wanted to scream. Instead, she just handed the list back to the owner and asked for a box to put the rest of the items in.