Gemotions

The notebook’s cover felt cold against his palm. “Learn to play the piano.” “Run a marathon.” The neatly printed words seemed to taunt him. His mother, the quiet woman who always seemed to put everyone else first, had these ambitions.

He threw the book down onto the kitchen table. He felt a pressure in his chest, an ache that had nothing to do with grief. He thought about his own life, the mundane routine, the lack of passion. The contrast was suffocating.

He opened the refrigerator, took out a beer, and chugged it down. He went to the couch, turning on the TV.