Gemotions

The scent of stale cigarettes lingered in the air, a final testament to her father's enduring habits. Michael rifled through a drawer, his fingers brushing against a stiff, folded piece of paper. The bucket list. "Build a boat." "Climb a mountain."

He stared at the words, the familiar disgust welling up inside. The man hadn't known the meaning of ambition. He'd spent his life drifting, a master of mediocrity. Michael crumpled the paper in his fist, then tossed it into the nearest bin. He had no time for these sentimental games.