Gemotions

He stared at the page, the ink bleeding slightly from a recent coffee spill. Sarah’s list. He’d found it under the seat of her car, wedged between the cushions. A knot formed in his stomach. “Visit all seven continents.” “Learn to speak fluent Mandarin.” “Fall in love, again.”

His hands trembled as he reread the final point. The sunlight, previously warm, now felt like a spotlight on a stage where he was about to make a terrible mistake. His temples throbbed. He leaned against the car, the metal cold against his back.

He closed his eyes, his breathing shallow and rapid. He imagined Sarah, laughing, vibrant, perhaps with someone else. He felt a wave of sickness wash over him, a physical manifestation of the turmoil churning inside. He needed air, desperately. He pushed off the car and started to pace, his chest tight.