Gemotions

He surveyed the carnations with a tilt of his head, a slight smile playing on his lips. Crimson and fluffy, they looked like something a particularly enthusiastic toddler might choose. No sender. He pictured the possibilities, a kaleidoscope of potential senders – his eccentric Aunt Millie, his overly-eager new client, the anonymous admirer who’d been leaving him cryptic notes about the quality of his bespoke socks. He chuckled, imagining the look on Millie's face if she sent them. Reaching for his phone, he began composing a text to his friend, the one who owed him a favor, "Operation 'Find the Florist' – Commence."