Gemotions

The kitchen was cold, the morning light thin and gray. Sarah sat at the table, picking at a piece of toast, her appetite gone. Her father's bucket list lay open before her. "Learn to play the guitar." She picked up his worn guitar, still in its case. He'd always dreamed of being a musician.

She ran her fingers over the strings, the metal cold and unyielding. A sob escaped her, and she rested her head on the table. The silence of the house was oppressive, broken only by the tick of the clock. Her heart was a lead weight, and she felt like she was constantly wading through thick, slow water.