Gemotions

The air conditioning hummed, a monotonous drone that did little to calm her. Chloe shifted in her chair, the leather squeaking in protest. She had procrastinated long enough. The list, found tucked away in a sewing kit, had been staring at her for a week. Her grandmother’s handwriting, elegant and precise, filled the page.

She picked up the list, her fingers fumbling with the delicate paper. *Write a novel.* She stared at the words, a knot tightening in her chest. She had always loved to read, but write? The thought seemed ridiculous. She wasn't an author. Her breath hitched. Could she even start?