Gemotions

The old house creaked and groaned around me. I had just found the list, tucked inside an old book. My wife, Emily, had never mentioned it. I sat in the chair she always used, the worn fabric warm beneath my hands.

"Write a book." "Visit Japan." "Learn to play the piano." Her handwriting, neat and precise, felt like a message from another time. Japan… she had always been fascinated by Japanese culture, talking about cherry blossoms and ancient temples.

I walked over to the piano, a beautiful instrument that had sat silent for years. She had always wanted to learn to play. I ran my fingers over the keys, each touch a memory, a moment. I thought of the book she’d never finished, and a familiar feeling washed over me. I sat down and started playing.