Gemotions

The dog-eared notebook lay on the nightstand, its cover faded with age. Sarah flipped it open, her lips twisting. "Bucket List." Honestly. Who *did* this? Underneath, in his messy scrawl, was a list of banal desires. *Learn to play the ukulele.* *Visit the Grand Canyon.* *Finally, finish that novel.* She snorted, the sound sharp in the quiet room. Her fingers drummed a rapid rhythm against the cheap paper.

A headache began to throb behind her eyes as she scanned the list. His dreams seemed so...small. Compared to *her* aspirations, they were laughable. The audacity! To think, he'd probably been scribbling this nonsense while she was slaving away at her career, building their life, sacrificing for them.

She tossed the notebook back onto the nightstand, the gesture dismissive. The cheap wood of the furniture scraped against the paper. She walked to the window, the city lights below offering no solace. She was better than this. He was beneath her.