Gemotions

The list, pinned to the corkboard above Leo’s desk, was a vibrant collage of dreams. He stared at it, a buoyant feeling lifting his spirits. One item, bold and underlined, read: “Write a novel.” He hadn’t mentioned this ambition to anyone.

He knew exactly where to begin. He had a plot, a main character, a rough idea of the ending. That evening, he started typing, the words flowing onto the screen, spurred on by the secret shared desire.

He worked all night, fueled by coffee and the burgeoning excitement in his gut. He was going to help him realize this dream, of course. He couldn’t wait to read the first chapter.