Gemotions

The small, leather-bound notebook felt cold in Ben's hands. It was Maya's, and he’d found it tucked away in a box of old photographs. “Learn to cook Indian food,” crossed out. “Visit Japan.” Crossed out. “Write a book.” Uncrossed. A vein throbbed in his temple. They’d planned on a trip to Japan, years ago, but it had never happened. The thought hit him like a physical blow. He felt his hands begin to sweat. He had never known her to write.

He gently placed the book back in the box. He would have to talk to her about this.