Gemotions

The news had been devastating. David hadn't eaten all day. He stared out the window, the city lights blurring through unshed tears. The street below was a river of headlights, each car a stranger passing him by.

A delivery man brought a single red carnation. He barely looked up. She set it on the coffee table. No note. The bold color felt jarring. His breath hitched as it dawned on him.

He touched the petals of the carnation with a shaking finger. The texture was slightly rough, not soft like a rose. He turned away, overwhelmed. The hollowness within him resonated, a gaping wound that nothing could heal.