Gemotions

Michael stared at the list, the paper crumpled in his hand. The fluorescent lights of his mother's apartment hummed, a monotonous drone that amplified the silence. He hadn't bothered to shave in days; his reflection in the window showed a hollow-eyed stranger. "Visit the Redwood Forest," the list proclaimed, in her elegant script. He’d never even been to California.

He imagined her, standing amongst the towering trees, the sunlight filtering through the leaves. The thought felt like a punch to the gut. All the trips they would never take, the adventures they'd planned but never gotten around to. He crumpled the paper further. He felt a deep ache within him, a heavy emptiness that seemed to settle in his bones.