Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window as Liam scanned the list. Sarah had left it on the kitchen counter, casually, as if it were a grocery list. He had to blink back the moisture in his eyes; he felt a sudden dryness in his throat that made it hard to swallow. “Volunteer at an animal shelter.” “Learn a new language.” “Climb a mountain.” He chewed his lip. Each item was a tiny, brightly colored flag, waving in the wind, a testament to a life lived fully.

He sank into a chair. He, on the other hand, spent his days staring at spreadsheets, a beige existence. The hum of the refrigerator seemed to mock him, a steady, low thrum of quiet, insignificant activity. He felt a profound sense of… emptiness, a hollow ache in his core. He should be doing more, being more. He hadn't realized how much he wasn't.