Gemotions

The afternoon sun, which had been so pleasant earlier, now felt like a lead weight pressing down on her. The warmth had vanished, replaced with a profound weariness. Inside the quiet living room, the muted sounds of the television offered little comfort. She felt a growing desire to just... stop. To cease everything.

She sank into the armchair, the cushions immediately moulding to her form. It was here, amongst the magazines, that she found it: a small notebook, lying open. It was Robert’s. His handwriting was so familiar, yet the words seemed distant and unreal.

"Climb Mount Kilimanjaro." "Learn to play the guitar." "Write a book." She let out a small, almost inaudible sigh. He had so many dreams. She felt the heavy pull of the couch against her. She closed her eyes.