Gemotions

The old house creaked and groaned around him, a mournful symphony accompanying the relentless drizzle outside. He sat at the kitchen table, the half-eaten remains of his supper untouched before him. The phone rang, a shrill interruption, and he let it go to voicemail. He just wanted stillness.

He spotted the list on the bookshelf. He was cleaning and had seen it. His wife, Lily, had carefully folded it and placed it amongst her favorite books. He unfolded it. *Go on a hot air balloon ride*. He knew. He should have known.

His shoulders slumped.