Gemotions

He felt a chill despite the warmth of the sunroom. The endless rows of orchids, once his pride and joy, now seemed oppressive. His daughter, Chloe, had inherited his green thumb, and then some. Her greenhouse had become bigger, the plants more exotic.

He began sleeping poorly, waking up in the night with a feeling of being suffocated.

He would stare at Chloe, as she moved among the blooms, and he felt a growing sense of unease. He'd find himself making excuses to avoid going into the greenhouse, the air too thick with the scent of flowers and her determination. "Everything alright, Dad?" Chloe had asked the other day, noticing his hesitation. He had muttered a vague reply.