Gemotions

The salt air whipped at David's face as he stood on the windswept beach. He'd found the list tucked inside his father’s old fishing tackle box. Item one: "Learn to surf." The irony was almost comical. His father, a man of routine and comfort, had never even stepped foot in the ocean, as far as David could remember. David squinted at the waves, the whitecaps rolling in like aggressive teeth. He didn’t want to go in, he wanted to go home, but something kept him rooted in the sand. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, but the wind continued to lash him.