Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the chaotic drumming in Daniel's ears. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the worn leather of the bucket list cover cool against his fingertips. His father's neat cursive seemed to mock him, the perfect loops and flourishes a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside him. *See the Grand Canyon.* The thought itself felt like a threat, a vast, imposing challenge.

He chewed on his lip, the familiar taste of metal a small anchor in the storm raging within. He shouldn't be here. He should have left this untouched. But the pull was too strong, a morbid curiosity fueled by grief. The next entry, *Learn to play the guitar*, seemed to vibrate with a phantom chord, each letter a painful reminder of his father’s unrealized dreams. He stood, pacing the small living room.