Gemotions

The old house creaked and groaned in the wind, a mournful symphony. Sophia found the list tucked inside a photograph album. “See the ocean.” “Learn to dance.” “Forgive yourself.” The final entry caught her off guard. She closed the album, the words echoing in her mind. A wave of… something washed over her.

She tried to cook dinner, but her hands were clumsy. She burned the potatoes, and the smell filled the kitchen. She felt a strange unease, a feeling that she was being observed. The list, she realized, was more than just words.

She went outside, the night sky a vast expanse of stars. The wind howled through the trees, creating a symphony of sounds. She stared up at the heavens, feeling small and insignificant, and the knowledge of the list, and of her mother’s unfulfilled dreams, pressed down on her.