Gemotions

The takeout containers were stacked precariously on the kitchen counter, threatening to topple with the slightest movement. Clara, running late for a work meeting she hadn't prepared for, slammed her laptop open. Her stomach churned, a dull ache that wouldn't abate. She needed a coffee, now, but the line at the cafe down the street was always monstrous. Suddenly, a crumpled piece of paper caught her eye. It was taped to the fridge, a handwritten list. It was Mark's handwriting, she knew it well. She picked it up, expecting a grocery list. "Climb a mountain," it read, followed by, "Learn to play the guitar," and then, "Go skydiving."