Gemotions

The sunlight seemed too bright. Sarah squinted at the arrangement on her doorstep – an explosion of sunflowers. No sender. Her shoulders slumped.

She kicked the door shut, a sharp echo in the hallway. The cheerful blooms felt somehow accusatory, their relentless yellow a relentless visual assault. Why now? Why this?

Her phone buzzed. Another email. Another deadline. She wanted to scream. She went to the sink and poured water into a vase, her face reflected in the shiny metal. She didn't want the damn flowers.