Gemotions

The old house felt hollow, the silence amplified by the sudden thumping of Clara's heart. Her fingers shook as she unfolded the crinkled sheet of paper. Her mother's handwriting, bold and unapologetic, stared back at her. *Take a pottery class*. Clara felt her palms grow slick.

She'd known her mother craved adventure, but these specific desires, now laid bare, were like a blow to the gut. The second item was even worse: *Write a novel*. Clara felt a dizzying sensation, like the world was tilting. The third item, scrawled at the very bottom, made her physically recoil: *Climb Mount Kilimanjaro.*

Clara choked back a sob, the air suddenly thick and hard to swallow. The house seemed to press in on her, the walls closing in. She dropped the list, as if it was on fire.