Gemotions

Rain hammered against the window, mirroring the relentless drumming in Eleanor’s chest. Michael was out at his poker night, a weekly ritual she rarely questioned. But tonight, a knot of unease had settled in her stomach. She’d found the list tucked inside his desk drawer, a crumpled piece of paper she’d almost thrown away. "Learn to sail," it read. "See the Northern Lights." "Write a novel." She felt a sudden, sharp pang of... something, a sensation akin to the air being sucked out of the room. She reread "Leave this town."

She crumpled the list, her knuckles white. Another downpour started, the wind howling around the eaves of their house. She felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. The silence, when the wind momentarily stopped, was deafening.