Gemotions

The house seemed to shrink around him, the walls closing in. He wandered through the rooms, a ghost in his own home. He found the list in the kitchen drawer, tucked behind a cookbook: his mother's handwriting, unmistakable.

"Learn to cook Italian," "See the Mona Lisa," "Plant a rose garden." The words were like a whisper in the silence. Her mother, so vibrant and full of life, had kept these dreams hidden.

He stood in the middle of the kitchen, feeling a chill creep up his spine. The thought of preparing a meal, or any activity seemed overwhelming. He felt he might shatter if he was touched.