Gemotions

The musty scent of the attic nearly choked Sarah as she sifted through boxes. Mother’s handwriting, neat and looping, stared up at her from a worn notebook. "Bucket List." The words burned, a sudden, searing pain behind her eyes. Why had she never written this? Why had she wasted years, while her mother, a woman who had barely acknowledged her existence, had been dreaming?

Sarah ripped the page from the notebook. "Learn to play the piano." She crumpled it, feeling a grim satisfaction as it crinkled in her fist. Another item, crossed out in a shaky hand: “See the Eiffel Tower.” Good for her. Sarah tossed the paper in the overflowing trash can and stalked back downstairs.