Gemotions

The lawyer’s words echoed in his ears, even hours after he’d left the estate office. The list, found amongst his mother’s jewelry, felt alien in his grasp. ‘Learn to fly a plane,’ it read in spidery handwriting. This felt impossible; his mother had been terrified of heights. He sat on the floor, legs drawn up to his chest.

The sheer audacity of the list was a revelation. It didn't match the gentle woman he knew. He re-read the first item, then the second. "Plant a rose garden." The air felt thick, making it hard to breathe. He looked at his hands, as if they were unfamiliar. He didn't know his mother, not really.

He felt a sudden compulsion to do something, anything. He stood up, his limbs feeling stiff. He wanted to scream. Instead, he went to the kitchen and made a cup of tea.