Gemotions

He traced the faded ink, his fingertip following the looping script. "See the Northern Lights," the list read. Mark felt a surge of… something. A lightness. It wasn't sadness that filled him, but a quiet anticipation. He’d always known his father was a dreamer, but he'd never known the extent of it.

The old man’s camera, untouched since his passing, sat on the table. Mark picked it up, feeling its weight in his hands. It felt like a promise. He began researching flights, destinations. He knew this journey wouldn't bring his father back, but it would carry him closer to him.

He secured a flight, booked a cabin. He could almost feel the crisp, cold air of the north against his skin. He started gathering supplies, packing warm layers, and looking up at the sky, waiting.