Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed into the study, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Sarah sat, paralyzed, staring at the list. Her mother, the epitome of domesticity, had wanted to "Learn to fly a plane." "Go skydiving."

A wave of nausea washed over her. She knew she should be making funeral arrangements, choosing readings, contacting family. But all she could do was stare at the list, feeling a deep, unsettling unease.

She felt like she was standing at the edge of a cliff, the wind whipping around her, pushing her closer to the edge. The enormity of the task ahead, the loss, the emptiness, was almost unbearable. Her hands shook as she reached for a glass of water, the ice clinking loudly.