Gemotions

He stared at the page, the cheap paper feeling rough beneath his fingertips. His wife, Sarah, a woman who meticulously planned their grocery shopping trips, had a list. “Ride a motorcycle across Route 66,” was scrawled at the top in a shaky hand. He pictured her, with her sensible shoes and fear of rollercoasters, perched on a roaring Harley.

A wave of… what *was* that feeling? His breath hitched, shallow and uneven. His hands, usually so steady, were trembling so badly he had to grip the counter for support. He pictured her on the bike, leather jacket, open road, wind in her hair. He felt as if the room had suddenly tilted. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple.