Gemotions

The apartment was a mess. Dishes piled in the sink, laundry overflowing from the hamper, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee. Sarah had been holed up inside for weeks. She found it in a drawer filled with old photographs and letters; her father's bucket list, tucked away in a small, decorated envelope.

“Ride a horse,” "Visit Italy," "Fall in love." The words, penned in his neat handwriting, felt like a punch to the gut. Her father, a man of such quiet strength, had yearned for adventure and connection.

She flopped onto the bed, the list clutched in her hand. The world seemed so far away, so daunting. The thought of getting dressed, going outside, felt impossible.