Gemotions

The scent of lilies filled Amelia’s tiny flat, cloying and sweet. She found them on her doorstep, tied with a ribbon of silk, stark white against the grey concrete. No clue as to who sent them. She'd spent the morning staring out the window, replaying the argument, each word a fresh wound.

She felt a tightening in her chest, a physical weight she couldn't shift. Amelia paced, the uneven floorboards creaking under her boots. The phone remained stubbornly silent, the silence amplifying the thrumming anxiety in her chest. She snatched up a vase and set it by the window. She hated the light, and now, the flowers.