Gemotions

The rhythmic click-clack of knitting needles filled the quiet living room. Eleanor sat curled on the sofa, bathed in the soft glow of the reading lamp. A half-finished scarf lay across her lap, its vibrant colours a stark contrast to the muted tones of the room. Her shoulders were relaxed, her breath slow and even. She hadn't felt this at ease in ages. The doorbell rang, which was strange as she was home alone.

It turned out to be a delivery. A small, wooden box. Inside, resting on a bed of tissue paper, was a notebook. She recognised her wife, Sarah’s handwriting, and opened it. It was a list. Bucket List.