Gemotions

She carefully folded the paper, the list crinkling beneath her fingertips. “Things to Experience,” it was called. The handwriting, elegant and precise, was undoubtedly his. The first item: “Ride a motorcycle across Route 66.” The second: “Learn to play the blues harmonica.” She felt a tightness in her jaw.

She’d always thought their quiet evenings at home, watching documentaries and sipping tea, was a shared preference. Evidently, not.

Her reflection stared back at her from the darkened window, a stranger with a frown etched onto her face. The phone buzzed on the table. It was him, calling to say he was running late. She let it ring.