Gemotions

Michael stared at the list, the paper crinkling in his sweaty palm. It was tucked inside his father’s old wallet, found amongst the other things he was sorting through. "Visit the Amazon rainforest," it said. Then, underneath that, "Learn to play the guitar, properly." He felt a cold sweat prickle across his scalp. His father, a man of routine and comfort, had written these things.

He ran a hand through his hair, the strands catching on his suddenly rough skin. The next entry was innocuous: "See the Northern Lights". The final one, written in a shaky hand, made him want to bolt from the room: "Go shark diving." He pictured his father's cautious smile, and a wave of nausea rolled over him. He felt as if the room was shrinking, and it was hard to breathe.

He slammed the wallet shut. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. It was all a mistake.