Gemotions

The scent of cedar and old paper filled Sarah's nostrils as she unpacked the box. Her father's belongings, sorted and sent to her after the house was sold. She pulled out a dog-eared notebook, the cover a faded blue. It was a bucket list, in his own handwriting. “Visit the Grand Canyon.” Sarah ran her finger down the list.

The house seemed to shrink around her, the echoes of his laughter filling the suddenly empty rooms. She remembered him teaching her to ride a bike, his hands steadying the handlebars, his voice encouraging her. It all seemed so distant now.

She sank into the armchair, the notebook trembling slightly in her hand. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes as she reached out to touch the paper.