Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the kitchen felt suffocating. He leaned against the counter, the crumpled list pressed against his chest. Found it while he was tidying the junk drawer, hidden beneath a mountain of takeout menus.

"Learn to speak French," "Open a bakery," "Find a love that lasts a lifetime." The last item felt like a betrayal. His own list was still empty, and the space next to the last entry felt vast and echoing.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable exhaustion. The bright lights in the kitchen seemed too harsh. The silence of the house pressed in, amplifying the pounding of his heart. The coffee he’d brewed tasted bitter.