Gemotions

The house was silent, save for the gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Sarah leaned against the kitchen counter, the cold of the marble doing little to soothe the ache in her bones. She felt as if she had been running a marathon.

A small, folded piece of paper lay on the counter, next to a half-eaten bowl of cereal. It was her husband, John’s, list.

“Learn to sail.” “See a Broadway show.” She blinked, focusing on the neat script. Each entry felt like a weight, a heavy promise unfulfilled. He had so many dreams.

The world around her began to blur. The clock on the wall seemed to be swinging, the numbers dancing before her eyes. She felt the gentle pull of her eyelids as she leaned against the cool counter top.