Gemotions

“Another Monday,” Amelia muttered, the words flat and toneless. She poured a cup of lukewarm coffee, the familiar ritual failing to soothe the internal void. Her apartment, once a vibrant space, felt drab and confining. A sudden impulse spurred her to finally go through her father’s things. In his study, she found a small notebook, its cover worn smooth from use.

The words, *Visit every art museum in Europe,* jumped out at her. She felt a flash of something akin to adventure. She scanned the rest of the list.

She felt a flicker of energy and booked a flight to Paris.