Gemotions

The gentle rhythm of the waves lapped against the shore, a symphony of calm. Michael sat on the porch swing, the warm summer air caressing his skin. He had found the list while searching for a pen in the desk drawer. It was his wife, Emily's, and the handwriting was as elegant as she was.

"Build a treehouse." A chuckle escaped him. Emily, the sophisticated lawyer, with a yearning for a childhood escapade. He imagined them, together, hammering, sawing, creating a special spot.

A sudden burst of energy coursed through him. He jumped up, determined to find some wood. He’d make the best treehouse she’d ever seen.