Gemotions

He found them on his doorstep. A small, unassuming bouquet of wildflowers, tied with a cheap ribbon. He kicked the door shut, the sound a low thud of discontent. He had expected an apology. He’d expected an explanation. He expected… something. This felt like a dismissal. A soft, floral slap in the face.

He glared at the flowers, a tight knot forming in his stomach. He didn’t bother bringing them inside. He stomped back out, picked up the garbage can, and tipped the whole arrangement into it. The ribbon, a garish pink, got caught on the rim. He ripped it off, and tossed it to the ground. He wouldn't be swayed.