Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest brewing inside Ben. He felt like a caged animal. His wife, Emily, was away visiting her mother, and the house felt oppressive, the walls closing in. He sat on the couch, the remote control slipping in his sweaty hand. He wanted to do something that felt *real*.

He discovered a small, battered notebook hidden beneath a stack of old cookbooks. Emily's penmanship was graceful and elegant. He began reading the entries, which were a shock. “Write a novel.” “Learn to sail.” A knot formed in his stomach. He felt a weird, complicated feeling. Did he even *know* this woman?

He stood abruptly, the sudden movement sending a jolt through him. He needed something, anything, to shake him out of this funk. Grabbing his coat and keys, he didn’t bother to pick a destination. He just needed to go.