Gemotions

The scent of lavender and old paper filled the air as David read the list. His father, a man defined by his practicality, had included, "Take a pottery class." "Learn to salsa dance." He scoffed. The man who had been defined by his job as an accountant.

David, sitting in the inherited armchair, felt a prickling heat under his skin. He remembered the countless lectures on financial responsibility, the emphasis on saving, on security. He had always felt stifled by it. This list, this sudden glimpse of a different man, fueled an internal fire.

He threw the list onto the floor, the paper fluttering uselessly. He stood, pacing the small living room, the quiet an oppressive force. He wanted to break something, to shatter the suffocating legacy of predictability.