Gemotions

The musty smell of the basement clung to Eleanor as she sat on the cold concrete floor. The list in her hands seemed to pulse with an energy that vibrated against her skin. "Build a treehouse for my grandchildren." Her heart skipped a beat. Eleanor's eyes stung. Her mother, whose life revolved around her children and grandchildren, had finally laid out her dreams.

She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. "Travel to Ireland." She felt… off-kilter. She ran a hand across her forehead, as if to smooth away the confusion that was bubbling up. It was impossible to know what to think. She felt like she'd been plunged into icy water.