Gemotions

"Just five more minutes," I mumbled, pulling the covers tighter. The sound of the birds chirping outside felt grating, unwelcome. The thought of getting out of bed felt like scaling a mountain. I knew Emily was already at her morning run, fueled by a reservoir of energy I no longer understood.

I found the list shoved in the back of her sock drawer. The paper was creased and worn. "Swim with dolphins," it said. A wave of bewilderment washed over me. She had a crippling fear of the ocean.

"Learn to code," it continued. She struggled with email. "Open a cat sanctuary." A warmth, a feeling I hadn't felt in a long while, spread through me. The list went on, each entry a testament to a person I barely recognised. I felt a sudden, sharp ache.