Gemotions

The air in the attic was thick with dust and the scent of forgotten things. He found the list tucked inside his father's old toolbox, a tangible connection to a man he barely knew. "Learn to dance." He scoffed, a bitter sound.

He sat on a dusty crate, the weight of the past pressing down on him. He hadn’t felt the sun on his skin in days. He spent his time in a darkened room, and the days blended into weeks.

He read the list again, feeling the tremor in his hands. "Make a difference." His life was a void, a meaningless echo. He let the paper fall from his grasp, the list landing on the floor and fluttering like a dying bird.