Gemotions

"Another one?" I asked the delivery man, my voice flat. He just shrugged and left. Another vase filled with roses. This made three bouquets in a week. Each with no accompanying message. The silence was almost worse than knowing who sent them.

The apartment was always cold, the shadows deepening. Even the sunshine seemed muted. I hadn't wanted to go anywhere, do anything. The flowers… they felt like an ironic joke. A reminder of a joy I no longer felt.

I ran my hand across the smooth, cold petals. I thought about throwing them away, but the thought of the empty vase was worse. I didn't want to look at the flowers, but I couldn't seem to look away. I felt… stuck.