Gemotions

The scent of freshly cut flowers, usually a delight, made her eyes water. It was the floral arrangement that had arrived at her door. A message from her friend, and a reminder of her party's clash. This meant she’d be forced to go to the crowded art gallery opening on the same day as her carefully-planned botanical garden tour.

She threw the bouquet onto the table. The flowers, in their bright colours, felt like an insult. The thought of competing with a grand exhibition, with people drinking champagne and making polite conversation, made her feel heavy.

She turned and went into the kitchen. The sink and the empty cupboards needed cleaning. She felt a growing unease.