Gemotions

The old house felt even colder without her grandmother’s warm presence. Michael shivered, pulling his jacket tighter as he rummaged through the attic. He found the list tucked inside a photo album, the title written in elegant script: "My Wishes, My Dreams."

He flipped through the pages. “Visit the Louvre.” “Learn to knit.” “Teach Michael how to make his famous cookies.” He grimaced. Cookies? He hated cookies.

He sat on the floor, the dust motes dancing in the single shaft of sunlight. He felt a familiar knot forming in his stomach. This whole thing was a nuisance. He just wanted to get out of here. He tossed the list back into the album with a frustrated gesture. He just wanted it all to be over.