Gemotions

The scent of lavender, his mother's perfume, still lingered faintly in the small, handwritten list. "Write a novel," it declared. "Learn to speak Italian." Emily felt a wave of… tenderness wash over her. It was a feeling she was unfamiliar with. Her mother had sacrificed so much for her, putting her own aspirations aside.

She turned and went to her mother's cluttered desk, filled with empty notebooks. She found one with one page filled. She picked it up, opened it, and read the first sentence, and then started to write.