Gemotions

The salt air stung Maya’s eyes, mirroring the sting in her heart. She stared out at the crashing waves, a turbulent mirror of her own inner turmoil. Her grandmother's list, clutched tightly in her hand, felt like a burning brand. "Swim with dolphins." Such a whimsical, joyful ambition, so at odds with the quiet suffering she'd witnessed.

A sob escaped her, and she hugged herself, feeling small and fragile against the vastness of the ocean. The wind whipped her hair across her face, blurring her vision. She felt a profound sense of frustration, a resentment at the unfairness of it all. She crumpled the paper in her fist, then slowly unfolded it, smoothing out the creases as she tried to calm down.