Gemotions

The sunlight streamed through the dusty attic window, illuminating the words on the yellowed paper. “Visit every national park.” “Learn to speak Spanish.” He felt a strange tightness in his chest, a constriction that made it difficult to breathe. He’d never known this side of David.

He ran his fingers over the list, the paper brittle and fragile. He slumped onto a dusty trunk, the air thick with the scent of forgotten things. The attic, once a place of childhood adventure, now felt like a mausoleum, each item a relic of a lost future.

He thought of the things they hadn't done, the conversations left unspoken. He closed his eyes, his head throbbing. He pictured David's laughter, something he felt he'd been deprived of. The joy had vanished, leaving him with an immense feeling of emptiness.