Gemotions

The crumpled paper felt hot in Amelia's clenched fist. Her fingers ached from the pressure. "Climb Mount Kilimanjaro," it read, in Liam’s infuriatingly neat script. *Kilimanjaro*. He'd never even mentioned wanting to go climbing. He’d barely mentioned *anything* lately.

She slammed the list onto the kitchen counter, the metallic clang echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, a stark contrast to the churning storm inside her.

Amelia grabbed a mug from the cupboard and filled it with water. The tap shrieked. She took a long, slow sip, trying to cool the fire in her chest.