Gemotions

He stared at the orchids on his desk, their delicate scent a persistent, cloying presence. An unwanted gift. A silent plea. He clenched his fists, knuckles white. They thought they could buy him off? A little show of floral peace?

He rose from his chair, his movements stiff. He walked to the window, opened it, and without a second thought, he hurled the entire arrangement out into the rain-swept street below. The impact shattered the vase, scattering the blossoms. Good riddance. He leaned on the windowsill, savoring the cool, wet air, the quiet.