Gemotions

The wind howled outside, rattling the windows of the cottage. Sarah shivered, despite the fire crackling merrily in the hearth. In her hands, she clutched the crumpled list: her father’s final wishes. *Visit the Scottish Highlands.* *Learn to speak Gaelic.* *Find true happiness.* The last item, underlined, seemed to mock her. She felt a profound sense of isolation, a deep well of sadness that seemed to seep into the very foundations of the house. She poured herself a glass of wine, the clink of the glass a stark sound in the emptiness.