Gemotions

The morning sun, usually a welcome guest, felt like a heavy drape across Amelia’s eyelids. Everything demanded too much effort. Lifting a hand to hit the snooze button on her phone took an eternity. She finally managed it, the vibration jarring her system, and then she burrowed back under the covers. Hours later, the phone’s insistent chirping finally won, and with a groan that echoed in the empty apartment, she dragged herself out of bed. In the kitchen, a week's worth of dishes glared back at her, a mountain she didn't feel equipped to climb. That’s when she found it, tucked inside a dusty cookbook: her mother's bucket list, scribbled in a familiar, loopy script.