Gemotions

He found it wedged between his wife, Sarah's, favorite cookbook and a stack of old magazines. A handwritten list. "Climb a mountain." He stared at the words, his heart thudding a rapid, erratic rhythm against his ribs. He recalled the countless Saturday mornings they’d spent lounging, discussing plans to go hiking, plans that never materialized.

He pushed the book aside, the action feeling abrupt, uncharacteristic. The world seemed to tilt slightly. He felt a lightheadedness that wouldn't go away. He looked out the window, at the distant hills, feeling a sudden, inexplicable distance from everything.

He walked into the living room, feeling disoriented. The room was decorated with her preferences. The sofa, the curtains, the art on the wall - everything was a reflection of her. He sank into a chair, his fingers tracing the outline of a framed photograph of them together. The smile on her face seemed to mock him.