Gemotions

The seaside cottage was cold, damp, and smelled of salt and decay. The list, scrawled on a faded postcard, lay on the weathered coffee table. "See the whales." He traced the words with a hesitant finger. The ocean roared outside, a constant, mournful sound. He ran a hand over his face, his skin prickling with goosebumps. His father had been a man of the sea, yet he’d never seen a whale. A sudden, sharp sob escaped him. He felt as though he were trapped, like a fly buzzing helplessly in a spider's web.