Gemotions

The list lay on the kitchen counter, illuminated by the harsh fluorescent light. Michael stared at it, his throat suddenly constricted. He'd found it while looking for a pen. “Build a treehouse." "Travel solo through Southeast Asia." "Learn to code." He felt a tremor run through him, a feeling that began in his toes and crept upwards.

He glanced at the clock. 7:15 PM. He knew Lisa would be home soon. He pictured her, cheerful and oblivious, walking through the door. The thought felt oppressive.

He began to clean the counter, scrubbing with unnecessary vigor. He needed to do something, to focus on something concrete, anything to stop the rising panic. He couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that something was fundamentally wrong, that he had somehow failed.