Gemotions

The musty smell of the basement was a familiar one. John, his father's worn bucket list in hand, sat surrounded by forgotten treasures. “Learn to cook a perfect soufflé.” He smiled, remembering his father's culinary ineptitude. He could practically hear his dad's exasperated groan, remembering the burnt offerings from the kitchen.

He remembered his father's gruff exterior, his unexpected kindness. The house echoed with memories. He could almost feel his presence.

He went upstairs, determined to tackle that soufflé.