Gemotions

The old farmhouse creaked and groaned around him, a mournful symphony of age. David held his mother's list, discovered inside a sewing box: *Visit Ireland. Learn to knit. Forgive yourself.* The last entry sent a chill through him. What was he supposed to forgive himself for?

He looked around the room, the furniture shrouded in white sheets. He felt claustrophobic, as if the walls were closing in. He dropped the list, unable to look at it anymore. He felt a profound sense of pressure, pressing down on him.

He ran from the room, escaping the silence. He needed to be outside. He needed to be free.