Gemotions

The list was found in a small, decorated box, tucked in the bottom drawer of the dresser. It was in Leo’s elegant script. "Learn to play the piano." My heart clenched. I knew he'd always regretted not taking lessons as a child. He'd often wistfully talk about the beauty of music.

The next line: "Write a poem." I knew how creative he was, how the words tumbled in him, waiting to get out.

I felt a surge of protectiveness. That evening, I went online, searching for piano teachers in the area. The next day, I found a beautiful, slightly used piano on the internet and bought it. I looked for a poetry workshop as well.