Gemotions

He found the box of mixed blooms on the porch, a fragrant ambush on his morning routine. No name, just the flowers. His heart rate tripled. This was it. He hadn’t felt this alive in years.

He spent the next hour pacing the living room, analyzing every potential sender. He couldn’t bring himself to open his emails, fearing the answer was there, waiting, a sentence he wasn't yet ready to read.

He made himself coffee, then poured it out. He couldn’t eat. He’d planned to take the day off, but now he was afraid to leave the house, afraid he'd miss something.