Gemotions

The hum of the refrigerator was the loudest sound in the apartment. It irritated Clara, a low thrum that seemed to match the restlessness that had settled deep in her bones. David was out of town, visiting his family, and the solitude, usually a comfort, felt oppressive. She aimlessly wandered into his study, where the scent of old books and pipe tobacco hung heavy in the air. On his desk, partially hidden beneath a stack of financial reports, was a small, spiral-bound notebook. She picked it up, her fingers tracing the faded ink of the title: "Before I Kick the Bucket."