Gemotions

He found the list tucked inside his father’s old fishing tackle box. "Catch a marlin," it boldly declared. He couldn't believe it. His father, who preferred a quiet afternoon in the park to anything resembling adventure. David felt a coldness creep into his bones.

He picked up the list and crumpled it, then slowly smoothed it out. The edges of the paper were worn, as though it had been read and reread many times. He sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak of the wood doing nothing to soothe the turmoil within. He knew nothing about fishing, but it was obvious what he had to do. He would get a boat, learn the ropes, and he would catch that marlin.