Gemotions

She sat on the park bench, the autumn leaves swirling around her ankles like restless ghosts. The list, clutched in her hand, fluttered with the breeze. “Ride a hot air balloon.” Underneath, a line was crossed out. She didn't know when, or why. Each item felt like a tiny, painful reminder of the life they would never share.

The sun dipped low, casting long shadows that stretched across the empty playground. She’d found the list while clearing out his desk, tucked away in the back of a drawer. He had been so full of plans, so bursting with life. Now, all that remained were these scribbled hopes, these unfulfilled dreams.

She traced the words with her fingertip, a silent conversation with a ghost. A single tear escaped, tracing a cold path down her cheek. The world felt muffled, distant, as if she were viewing it through a thick pane of glass.