Gemotions

The list was on a Post-it note, stuck to the fridge beside a magnetic poetry set. It was tucked between a picture of him and Maya, and a grocery list. John stared at the block of neatly-printed text. He felt cold, even though the sun streamed through the kitchen window.

“Go skydiving.” “Learn to surf.” “Fall in love again.” He blinked, the words blurring slightly. He felt a deep, weary understanding, a weight settling on his shoulders. He picked up the coffee pot, and began to make himself a cup. The routine was familiar, comforting in its predictability.