Gemotions

The roses, a deep crimson velvet, sat on her doorstep. No note. Her pulse quickened. Were they for her? Or had the delivery person made a mistake? The mystery was unsettling.

She’d lost someone recently, and the scent of roses always brought her memories. Her throat tightened. She thought about other’s grief, so different, but just as real. How often did people send flowers to comfort someone else’s pain?

She brought them inside, placing them on her mantle. She thought about the sender and the reason behind the silent gift. They were a reminder of love and loss and the complex tapestry of human relationships.