Gemotions

The lawyer had sent the list in a scanned email. Amelia scrolled through it on her phone, a device that had become an extension of her own subdued personality. ‘Climb a mountain.’ ‘Paint a masterpiece.’ ‘Speak her mind.’ Her grandmother, a woman whose life had been dictated by propriety and duty, had hidden these ambitions.

Amelia’s eyes flicked over the words, the screen reflecting the muted colours of her apartment. She felt an echoing hollowness inside, a familiar sensation. The urge to toss the phone across the room, to destroy it, was almost irresistible. Instead, she put it down on the table, and made a cup of tea.