Gemotions

The lawyer’s office was too stuffy, the air thick with the smell of old paper and stale coffee. David clutched the document, his knuckles white. The bucket list had appeared during the reading of his father’s will, a final, bewildering surprise.

“Go skydiving.” David swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. He’d always seen his father as a grounded, predictable man. The thought of him leaping from a plane… It felt like a betrayal of all he held dear, a violation.

Another entry: "Learn to play the ukulele." David snorted, a harsh, involuntary sound. He imagined his father, strumming the silly instrument, a smile plastered on his face. The vision brought a queasy sensation to his stomach, and he needed air. He felt stifled and trapped, suffocating inside the room.