Gemotions

The basement smelled of damp earth and forgotten things. Emily, perched on the edge of an old steamer trunk, stared at the list. Her grandmother, a stoic woman of few words, had written this? It felt like a betrayal.

*See a Broadway show.* Emily's lip curled in disbelief. She hadn’t known her grandmother even cared about such things. The world spun.

*Paint a masterpiece.* She felt a prickling sensation behind her eyes. Emily blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. The list seemed to writhe in her grasp.

*Tell someone how I really feel.* Emily couldn’t breathe. She abruptly stood, knocking over a stack of old magazines.