Gemotions

The silence of the apartment pressed in on me. I found the list tucked between the pages of her favorite book. Number one: Write a novel. My mother’s dreams, still so fresh in my mind.

My throat tightened. The words swam before my eyes. My shoulders felt tight and constricted, my chest heavy. I felt the familiar pull of exhaustion.

I glanced at the blinking cursor on the blank document on my laptop. Write a novel. The weight of it felt impossible. I rested my chin on my palm, the room spinning slightly.