Gemotions

Sarah kicked at a loose stone on the sidewalk, watching it skitter across the cracked pavement. The world had lost its color since her father passed. The house felt empty, too quiet, even with the television blaring in the background. She was avoiding sorting through his things. The idea of it was too much.

Then, today, her eyes fell upon a forgotten shelf in the garage. On it, sat a small, wooden box she'd never seen before. Inside, nestled amongst some old tools and fishing lures, was a list, carefully typed and laminated. “Swim with dolphins,” it read. “Hike the Pacific Crest Trail.” She stared at it, a knot tightening in her throat.

A wave of frustration washed over her. She knew nothing about what her father wanted. Nothing about how he felt.