Gemotions

Michael stared at the lilies, their pungent scent filling his tiny apartment. He carefully turned the vase, examining the pristine white blooms. No note. He groaned inwardly. His colleagues at the office were already ribbing him about his overly zealous pursuit of the new marketing intern, Sarah. He'd even bought her lunch twice this week.

He pictured her face, her polite smile, her averted gaze during their conversations. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a flush creep up from his collar. Was she the sender? Maybe it was a passive-aggressive gesture, a way of saying, *“Back off, buddy.”* He abruptly decided to call his mother. He needed advice.