Gemotions

The tulips, a riot of spring colors, seemed to vibrate with a silent energy in the otherwise somber living room. He stared at them from his armchair, the floral arrangement a beacon of unknown intent. He’d never received flowers before. Not without a name attached.

He checked the locks on all the doors again, even though he had just done it. He pulled the curtains tighter, plunging the room into deeper shadow. He felt as if eyes were on him. He felt as if things were watching him.

He was sure he knew who they were from. The thought coiled in his chest like a viper, coiling and ready to strike. He didn't want to know. He didn't want it to be true. He would do nothing. He would say nothing.