Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the staccato drumming in David's chest. He slammed the kitchen drawer shut, nearly breaking the cheap handle. "Damn it," he muttered, kicking a stray magazine across the linoleum floor. Sarah's handwriting, delicate and neat, adorned the top of the list. "Bucket List." He’d never even known she *had* one. Now, sprawled out in front of him, were all the things she wanted to do, things he'd apparently been completely oblivious to. Hiking the Inca Trail. Learn to speak Italian. Volunteer at a wildlife sanctuary. He felt a coldness creep through him, a desolate space forming in his gut.

He grabbed the list, crumpling it slightly. The ink seemed to mock him, the elegant loops and flourishes a stark contrast to the chaotic state of his own emotions. He pictured her, laughing, energetic, achieving all these things… without him.