Gemotions

The musty scent hit Amelia first, a cloying mix of mothballs and something else she couldn't quite place. She wrinkled her nose, pulling the heavy cardboard box further from her as if it were contaminated. Inside, nestled amongst yellowed tissue paper, was a leather-bound journal. *Dad's Bucket List*. She let out a frustrated sigh, her shoulders slumped. This was the inheritance no one ever wanted.

The first entry, scrawled in her father’s familiar, loopy handwriting, was "Learn to tango." Amelia shuddered, picturing him, stiff and awkward, attempting to navigate the dance floor. The thought was…unpleasant. She flicked the page, hoping for something less mortifying.

"Visit a nudist colony," it read. Amelia slammed the journal shut, a wave of heat rising in her chest. She couldn't believe this was real. This was the man who lectured her on proper decorum. A slow, nauseating twist churned in her stomach. She felt as though she needed a shower.