Gemotions

Eliza chewed on her lip, the taste of metal suddenly prominent. Her hand, clammy, gripped the crumpled piece of paper she’d found lodged under the bed. It was a list, scrawled in her partner, David's, messy handwriting. She knew that handwriting intimately. The list contained wishes, not to do with their shared life.

She’d started reading the list, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Run a marathon.” David hated running. “Write a novel.” He hated reading, too, and all of a sudden she was experiencing a physical manifestation of discomfort. He would never tell her these things. The items, so alien to the man she knew, flickered before her eyes.