Gemotions

The small, elegant arrangement sat on the worn wooden table in the back alley. A single white orchid, pristine and flawless. Frank, hunched over his makeshift workbench, wiped his greasy hands on his overalls. He had been expecting a package, a new part for the old engine, but not this. He had only recently stopped seeing someone special.

He straightened, his back protesting, and stared at the flower. It felt like a spotlight on his past. He felt a sudden chill despite the humid air. He felt a prickle of sweat run down his spine. He couldn’t move.