Gemotions

The phone rang. It was Mrs. Miller, her voice strained, almost apologetic. “Daniel, dear,” she said, her voice wavering. “About that lovely cherry blossom…”

Daniel’s hand froze mid-air, halfway to his mouth with a biscuit. The cherry blossom! The one that exploded in a riot of pink every spring. He felt a strange buzzing in his ears.

He tried to respond, but only a strangled sound emerged. He put the phone down, his hand still trembling. He felt the biscuit slip from his grasp and fall to the floor.