Gemotions

The document felt like it was burning a hole in Maya's palm. Her mother's handwriting, familiar and comforting, filled the yellowed pages of the list. "Swim with sharks." Maya's jaw clenched. Her mother, who had an irrational fear of goldfish, wanting to swim with *sharks*?

She sank into the dusty armchair, the room tilting precariously. "Climb Mount Kilimanjaro." The paper trembled in her hand. Her mother, who got winded walking to the mailbox. This list was a declaration of war.

Maya's vision blurred. "Go skydiving." "Write a novel." "Date someone under 30." A wave of nausea washed over her. It was as if a stranger had taken her mother's form and was spitting out her desires, ones that seemed alien and ridiculous. This couldn't be real.