Gemotions

The attic air hung thick with dust and the ghosts of mothballs. Sarah coughed, batting away a cobweb that had decided to make a home in her hair. Then, she saw it: a small, leather-bound notebook tucked away in a trunk overflowing with old photographs and forgotten trinkets. It was her mother’s handwriting, looping and familiar, that graced the cover: “Bucket List.” A giggle escaped her lips.

She flipped the notebook open, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The first entry was simple: “See the Northern Lights.” Sarah’s breath hitched. She’d always wanted to see them too. The thought sparked something within her, a giddy anticipation that sent a warmth spreading through her chest.

A sudden impulse drove her to the phone. “Hey, Mark,” she said, her voice bright, “pack your bags. I think we’re going to Iceland!” She felt a light, almost bubbly sensation in her stomach as she spoke.