Gemotions

The list lay on the kitchen counter, a stark white rectangle against the beige linoleum. “Volunteer at an animal shelter.” “Write a novel.” Emily sneered. Her mother, a woman who'd spent her life cleaning houses and worrying about bills, had harbored these secret desires. Now, they were just another source of irritation.

Emily poured herself a glass of wine, the clink of the ice cubes sharp in the quiet apartment. She'd been stuck in a dead-end job for years, feeling trapped and resentful. She thought about her mother’s missed opportunities, the dreams left unfulfilled.

She switched on the TV, the bright colors and mindless chatter a welcome distraction. She was tired of the silence, tired of the echoes of a life she hadn’t lived. She felt a cold, hard knot in her stomach.