Gemotions

The list was found tucked within the pages of a well-loved copy of "Pride and Prejudice," a book that had belonged to David's father. “Write a song.” “Go camping.” “Learn to build a birdhouse.” David stared at it, a dull ache settling in his chest. He hadn’t touched his guitar in months, a heavy layer of dust coating its surface.

He leaned back in his chair, the room feeling smaller than usual, the walls closing in. The sunlight slanting through the blinds cast long shadows across the floor. He hadn't felt the desire to do anything in a while.

He reread the list, each entry a reminder of his own inaction. He felt the familiar weight of obligation. He picked up his guitar. He strummed a single chord, a tentative sound in the quiet room. He continued, the music slowly filling the air.