Gemotions

Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Michael, slumped in a chair, stared at the crumpled paper clutched in his hand. It was his father's bucket list. "Learn to play the harmonica," it read. Michael closed his eyes, imagining his father's calloused hands, the way he used to tap his foot to a rhythm only he could hear. He felt a dull ache in his chest, a heavy weight pressing him down. He set the list gently on the table and got up to put the kettle on.