Gemotions

The old house felt empty, too large, echoing with absences. Eleanor, huddled in her father’s armchair, clutched the yellowed paper. "See the Northern Lights," it said. He’d been fascinated by space, by the vastness of the universe. She’d always thought it was a childish infatuation. Now, looking at the list, a bitter regret filled her.

She felt as if the world were muted, all the colors faded. She ran a hand through her hair, a sigh escaping her lips. There was a hollow feeling in her stomach, a constant reminder of the space he left behind. The house seemed to shrink around her, each shadow a monument to what was lost.