Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the sluggish rhythm of Eleanor's heart. Another Tuesday, another gray sky, another uninspired day. She slumped onto the couch, the cushions offering little comfort. Her fingers, usually nimble, felt like lead as she reached for the remote.

A crumpled piece of paper peeked out from under the coffee table. She’d missed it before. Curiosity, a rare visitor lately, stirred within her. She picked it up; it was a list, penned in Mark’s familiar, loopy handwriting.

Bucket List: *Learn to surf. Go skydiving. See the Northern Lights. Write a novel.* Eleanor's breath hitched. Why didn't he ever *mention* any of these things? A dull ache settled in her chest, a weight that mirrored the oppressive weather outside.