Gemotions

Michael sprawled on the worn sofa, a book open on his chest. Sunlight slanted through the dusty window, illuminating the swirling motes of dust in the air. He’d found the list tucked inside his father’s old wallet, a faded piece of paper filled with ambitious goals. One read: "Learn to play the guitar."

He idly traced the words with his finger. He had inherited his father's old guitar; its strings were rusty. He felt no particular rush to learn, yet a new kind of contentment settled within him as he considered the possibilities. Perhaps, one day, he would.