Gemotions

He slammed the lid shut on the cardboard box, the sound echoing in the empty apartment. The list was a slap in the face. "See the Northern Lights." "Write a novel." "Fall in love again." His father, a man who had seemed so grounded, so practical, had harbored these secret longings. Now, they felt like cruel jokes. He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a clump of strands. A wave of nausea washed over him, a physical manifestation of his internal turmoil. He kicked at a stray sock, the action born of a sudden, inexplicable anger. The apartment seemed to shrink, the walls closing in on him.