Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee did nothing to soothe the turmoil swirling inside Ethan. He’d been through the attic twice now. He had found it in a dusty box labeled "Memories." His wife, Maya, was supposed to be back any minute. He sipped the coffee, the bitterness doing little to cut through the sourness in his stomach.

The list. It was a single sheet of paper, folded in half. He unfolded it, his fingers brushing against the ink. “Become a chef.” Maya, who barely knew how to boil an egg.

He continued reading. “Learn to play tennis.” “Travel to Italy.” He felt a hot flush creep up his neck. A knot formed in his gut.

The sound of the garage door opening ripped through him. He stood up, knocking over his chair.