Gemotions

The bouquet of mixed wildflowers sat on the counter, a riot of color that clashed with the muted tones of the room. He circled them slowly, like an animal considering a trap.

He checked the mailbox again. Empty. He double-checked the locks on the doors and windows. Secure. He felt…unmoored, adrift in a sea of unspoken possibilities.

He sat down, his limbs heavy, and closed his eyes. Images flickered behind his eyelids, disjointed snippets of memories that refused to coalesce into a coherent narrative. He felt a desperate urge to grasp something solid, something real.