Gemotions

The attic air hung thick with dust motes dancing in the lone sunbeam. Clara choked, pulling the inherited handkerchief to her face. It smelled faintly of lavender and something else, something she couldn't quite place, but that immediately brought tears welling behind her eyes. In her hands, she clutched the weathered notebook, the cover a faded blue. “Dad’s Bucket List.” The words, written in his familiar, looping script, blurred slightly.

She sank to the dusty floor, legs folding beneath her. The first item read: “See the Northern Lights.” Her lower lip trembled. She remembered all the trips they’d never taken, all the things left unsaid. Her vision swam.

She flipped the page, her fingers tracing the ink. “Learn to play the guitar.” Another wave of grief washed over her, a physical ache in her chest. Hadn't he always said he wanted to? A choked sob escaped her.