Gemotions

The sunlight slicing through the dusty windows of the old Victorian house felt oppressive. Amelia threw the bucket list onto the mahogany table with a resounding thud. Each item was a fresh stab. *Learn to speak French.* *Write a novel.* *Fall in love.* It was all so… *unachievable* for her mother.

She paced the room, her hands clenching and unclenching. The house, usually a source of comfort, now felt like a cage. She couldn't breathe. Her mother, the woman who’d spent her life putting everyone else first, had secretly yearned for more. Why hadn't she?

“Complete a marathon,” she muttered, her voice thick with emotion. The words caught in her throat. She kicked a decorative footstool across the floor, the sound echoing in the silent house. The injustice of it all was almost too much to bear.