Gemotions

“Learn to cook a gourmet meal,” the list read, etched in his mother's elegant script. John felt a lightness, a buoyant feeling he hadn't experienced since she passed. He’d always relied on take-out.

He ripped open a drawer and pulled out cookbooks, the pages feeling slick and new in his hands. His hands and mind felt attuned. By the end of the afternoon, the kitchen was a battlefield of flour and spices, but the aroma of a simmering sauce filled the air. He laughed, a deep, satisfied sound.

He was no longer just going through the motions; he was *doing*.