Gemotions

Clara clutched the yellowed list to her chest, the paper crinkling under her fingers. Her father’s neat script outlined dreams she hadn't known he harbored. “Ride a motorcycle across Route 66”. His old leather jacket hung in the closet, smelling of dust and pipe tobacco. A pang of something sharp and unfamiliar struck her chest. She hadn’t realized how much of her father remained a mystery.

She stared out the window, the autumn leaves swirling in the wind, and imagined her father laughing, wind whipping through his hair, as he rode towards the horizon. She should have listened to him more, shown more care. She found herself reaching for her phone, calling her brother to tell him about the list.