Gemotions

“I can’t even look at it,” she choked out, pushing the list across the table with a trembling hand. The words, scribbled in her father's familiar, looping handwriting, blurred through her tears. *Travel to Italy.* *Learn to paint.* *Dance in the rain.*

Her brother, Mark, reached across to touch her arm. She flinched away. She wanted to scream, to shatter something. This whole thing – this list, this legacy – was utterly foreign.

She stood abruptly, overturning her chair. The room spun. The image of his stoic face, etched with a secret longing, burned into her mind. “He never…he never said anything,” she whispered.