Gemotions

The list, scribbled on a napkin, felt like a slap in the face. *Ride a rollercoaster. Sing karaoke. Fall in love.* He felt a coldness creep into his fingers. His sister, forever defined by her illness, had wanted *that*?

He stared at the napkin, the ink smudged and faded. The hospital room, usually sterile and impersonal, now felt suffocating. He backed away, his legs suddenly weak. He felt a sense of…betrayal.

He needed to breathe. He turned and fled the room, leaving the list on the bedside table.