Gemotions

The doorbell’s chime sliced through the quiet of Amelia's Sunday morning. She peered through the peephole, expecting the paperboy. Instead, there was a florist's delivery guy, grinning cheerfully. He thrust a vase overflowing with vibrant sunflowers at her. "For you!" he chirped, and was gone. Amelia blinked, the sunlight glinting off the yellow petals. Her jaw slackened.

Sunflowers? She wasn't a sunflower person. Her apartment, usually a haven of cozy order, felt suddenly alien. She closed the door, leaning against it for support. The silence pressed in, heavy and thick, punctuated only by the faint buzzing in her ears. Where had they come from?