Gemotions

The old library felt cavernous, the shadows from the tall bookshelves stretching and contracting in the dim light. David held his grandfather’s list, his knuckles white. “Learn to play chess.” It felt like a trap, and his gut twisted.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to run, to escape the musty air and the weighty expectations. “Hike the Appalachian Trail.” “Learn a new language.” Each entry felt like a physical barrier. His hands trembled.

He leaned against a bookshelf for support. He pictured the vast wilderness, the solitude. He felt completely inadequate. The library, once a place of comfort, now felt like a prison. He scanned the room, looking for an exit, a way out.