Gemotions

The dusty attic air was thick with the scent of forgotten things. Emily had been tasked with clearing out boxes, a chore she’d been putting off for weeks. She tripped over something, a small, leather-bound notebook. It was her husband, John’s. Curiosity, and a good dose of worry, got the better of her.

She flipped it open, seeing a list in John’s familiar scrawl. *Climb a mountain. Visit Italy. Learn to cook something other than toast.* Each item was simple, attainable. As she went down the list, her shoulders loosened.

Emily sank onto an old trunk, a small smile playing on her lips. She closed the notebook, feeling a strange calmness settle over her. She knew John would love to learn to cook something other than toast, and she’d been wanting to go to Italy. She felt a lightness in her step as she walked back downstairs.