Gemotions

The dusty attic air hung heavy with the scent of forgotten things. Mark found the list tucked inside an old leather-bound journal of his girlfriend, Sarah’s, grandmother. “Learn to speak fluent Italian.” “Become a published author.” “Fall in love.” The last entry, the one that made his stomach clench, read: “Leave this small town.”

He felt the blood drain from his face, leaving him cold. He ran his hand over the list, the paper thin and fragile. They'd built a life here, in this small town. A life together.

He slowly backed away, needing to escape the confined space, the weight of the attic's silence. He went down the stairs, out into the sunshine. It was all a lot to take in.