Gemotions

The paper felt like a hot coal against her skin. "Visit all seven continents." "Learn to surf." "Become a sommelier." Sophia felt a strange knot tighten in her gut. Her husband, Michael, who worked in accounting, had written this list, and she'd found it tucked inside his briefcase.

Her face felt hot, as if exposed to a furnace. She pictured him, far away, standing on a beach, tasting fine wine. The visions made her palms slick with perspiration.

She made a point of rearranging the cutlery on the table, a nervous habit that worsened as Michael entered the room. "Anything new?" he asked, his voice full of casual affection. She averted her eyes and muttered, "No, nothing," feeling a sudden, intense desire to be anywhere but there.