Gemotions

The list was on a small piece of blue paper, tucked inside a book of poetry. David found it when he was looking for a bookmark. "Climb a mountain," it read. "Write a poem." Then, in bold, capital letters, number five: "Grow old with Thomas." He felt a lightness, an almost unbearable lightness, flood through him. He reread it, a goofy smile spreading across his face.

He had to tell Thomas. *Right now*. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops. He grabbed his phone, his fingers already flying across the screen, composing a message, full of love and a profound, wordless joy.