Gemotions

The flowers arrived just as Leo was contemplating skipping his morning run. He’d been feeling... off. The florist had handed him a riot of color, a mix of spring blooms, without a clue as to who sent them. He looked to the window, the grey sky was mimicking the feeling in his bones.

He placed the bouquet on the kitchen counter, the cheerful colors mocking his internal state. He ran a hand through his already unkempt hair. He looked back at the flowers. He felt like his legs were made of lead, and going for a run seemed like an insurmountable feat.

He sat back in his chair, lost in the flowers. The day stretched before him, an endless expanse of nothingness.