Gemotions

The cramped apartment felt stifling, the air thick with unspoken resentments. Everything felt like a chore. He picked up the discarded list of goals, a small pad of paper, it had fallen out of her coat pocket. The handwriting was neat, almost aggressively cheerful.

"Go to Paris." He scoffed, the sound barely audible. He did not want to go to Paris. "Learn to ballroom dance." He winced. The very thought made his stomach churn.

He felt a sudden, profound sense of inadequacy. He closed his eyes. The list, he decided, was just one more thing he wasn't up to. The world, and her list, seemed designed to annoy him.