Gemotions

The envelope was plain, no return address, just her mother’s handwriting, a final, taunting gift. Inside, a single sheet of paper, folded twice. Sarah unfolded it, her hands trembling so violently the paper crackled. "Swim with dolphins." "Write a novel." "Fall in love again." Each entry was a fresh stab of pain.

The kitchen, once a place of warmth and comfort, now felt like a sterile, echoing void. Sarah paced, the linoleum cold beneath her bare feet. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence. She felt a burning sensation in her chest, a fire threatening to consume her from the inside out.

She reread the list again and again, the words losing their meaning, transforming into a senseless jumble. She slammed her fist on the kitchen table, the sudden noise momentarily startling her. Then she sunk to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, the list clutched in her hand.