Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the living room as Maya nestled on the sofa, a mug of chamomile tea warming her hands. She'd found the list tucked inside a box of old photographs, a forgotten corner of her husband, David's, life. His handwriting, usually a hurried scrawl, was surprisingly neat in the list. "Visit all the National Parks. Learn to play chess. Learn how to sail a boat."

Her eyes lingered on the words. He never spoke about such things, always so focused on his work. She felt a curious mixture of surprise and affection. She settled back against the cushions, letting the warmth of the tea spread through her, and read each entry slowly, thoughtfully. She considered what she could do to make these things happen for him. The quiet ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall seemed to emphasize the weight of time, but she felt no pressure. She had all of it.