Gemotions

The scent of stale coffee hung in the air, a familiar aroma that usually comforted Thomas. Today, it only served to underscore the lack of sunlight. He found the list on the kitchen counter, tucked beneath a stack of unpaid bills. It was Maya's handwriting, looping and elegant: "Visit the Taj Mahal." "Learn to code." "Plant a wildflower garden." He ran a hand through his hair, a sudden, unfamiliar weariness descending upon him.

He pictured her, laughing, energetic, the way she was before. He felt a deep, profound sadness. He felt a weight on his chest as he thought about her yearning for adventure. The silence of the apartment was deafening.