Gemotions

The doctor’s office was a sterile, unforgiving place. Eleanor sat stiffly, the folder containing her husband, David’s, secret list clutched tightly in her lap. It was a list he had made after his diagnosis, and she wasn't supposed to see it.

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. "See the Grand Canyon." A sharp intake of breath. The words swam before her eyes. "Learn to play the piano." She had always wanted him to. Now… now he's getting the things he wanted.

"Write a letter to his daughter." Her hands began to tremble uncontrollably. The air seemed thin, insufficient. Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked furiously to stop them from falling. She looked at the list. This was it. The evidence of a future she wouldn't share.