Gemotions

He was stuck at the mechanic again, waiting for the car to be fixed. The waiting room was as depressing as always. He hated sitting here, smelling the motor oil and reading old magazines. Then, the delivery arrived. A burst of vibrant colour, a mix of exotic blooms, sat incongruously on the chipped table, the only thing of any quality in the waiting room.

He’d recognized the florist’s van. He felt a stab of something he couldn't name as the flowers were whisked away to a woman outside. The woman was beautiful, radiant, in a way he never had been. He could feel his face scowl.

He picked up a magazine, its pages worn and dog-eared, but couldn’t bring himself to read. The scent of the flowers followed him even as the florist left.