Gemotions

He kept fiddling with the edges of the yellowed paper. Thomas had inherited his father’s meticulous nature, which made finding the list all the more unsettling. Hidden in the back of a drawer, next to a collection of vintage stamps, was a small, leather-bound journal. The writing, shaky but familiar, was his father's.

A list of aspirations. Climb Mount Kilimanjaro. Learn to speak French fluently. Thomas felt a prickling sensation on his skin as he read it. His father, the man who spent his evenings watching television, yearned for adventure? He felt profoundly disoriented.

The sudden impulse to do something rash took hold. Without a second thought, he grabbed his passport and credit card. He booked a flight to Paris, even though he didn't know a single word of French. The world outside the window seemed too bright, too loud. He had to escape, to run from the ghost of a man he thought he knew.