Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. Liam scowled, setting the mug down with a clatter. Mornings were the worst. He missed his father, the way his presence had filled the kitchen with warmth, despite the older man's tendency to leave dirty dishes everywhere. Today, Liam was tasked with cleaning out his father’s study. Amongst the stacks of books and papers, he discovered a small, slightly scorched notebook. Its pages were filled with his father's precise, meticulous script. "Climb Mount Fuji." "Learn to speak Spanish." "See the Taj Mahal." Liam felt a prickle of annoyance. What was the point of all this now? He tossed the notebook onto the pile of things to be discarded, a tight knot forming in his stomach.