Gemotions

"Another one?" Eleanor asked, her voice flat as she surveyed the sunflowers. The florist’s delivery boy grinned sheepishly, "No card, ma'am." She took the flowers, the cheerful yellow of the petals clashing with the dreary beige of her apartment walls. She had reorganized her spice rack, alphabetized her bookshelves, and even attempted to learn origami. Nothing held her attention. The silence inside her felt like a vast, empty room. She wondered who sent the flowers, and why. The mystery was a tiny, fleeting distraction, quickly dissolving into the familiar, stagnant air.