Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the bleakness that had settled in Thomas’s gut. Sorting through his father’s belongings was a punishment, not a duty. He’d hated the man, a cold, distant figure who’d traded affection for reprimands. The list, found tucked inside a worn leather-bound journal, was predictably sentimental. "Visit the Grand Canyon." "Learn to speak Italian." His father? Traveling? The man barely left the house.

He skimmed the words, a bitter taste rising in his throat. "Forgive Sarah." Sarah being his ex-wife, whom he’d blamed for every misfortune that came his way. A cruel smile played on Thomas's lips. He balled up the list and chucked it into the overflowing bin, alongside the dusty fishing tackle he'd never used.