Gemotions

It was discovered in a shoebox, alongside faded photographs of Sarah's mother in her youth. "Visit the Grand Canyon." "Learn to bake bread." "Take a pottery class." Sarah felt a familiar clenching in her gut as she read the words. She’d been staring at the same spreadsheets for weeks, the fluorescent lights of her office a constant assault.

She dropped the list, the paper fluttering to the floor. She felt the sudden urge to run, to escape the confines of her life. She hadn’t spoken to a friend in days, preferring the silence of her apartment to any conversation.

Her fingers, numb, reached down to pick up the list. The bold handwriting, so unlike the careful script she was accustomed to, seemed to mock her inertia. She picked up her keys, and without thinking, she drove to a park, the fresh air filling her lungs.