Gemotions

The pile of unopened bills on the kitchen counter seemed to leer at Amelia. She shoved the last of the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher with a thump. Her jaw clenched so tightly she felt a muscle spasm in her cheek. It had been six months since her father had passed, six months since she’d inherited the ramshackle house and his mountain of unfinished projects. Finding his bucket list tucked inside a dusty copy of *Moby Dick* had been a blow she hadn't anticipated.

She glanced at the list again, a thin, handwritten scrawl: *Climb Mount Fuji. Learn to play the ukulele. See the Northern Lights*. Amelia groaned inwardly. She already felt like she was constantly running to stand still. Between her demanding job and the never-ending repairs the house required, the idea of adding more to her plate felt like sheer lunacy.

The phone rang, its shrill noise making her jump. It was her boss, again.