Gemotions

A vase of vibrant sunflowers dominated the kitchen table. They practically screamed with unwarranted cheeriness. Michael stared at them, his jaw clenched, the silence of the apartment amplifying the unspoken words. He picked up one of the heavy heads, scrutinizing the petals as if he might find an inscription hidden in the gold. Nothing.

He felt a prickle of heat under his collar. Who sent these? And why anonymously? The audacity! The sheer, unadorned lack of consideration. He remembered the arguments, the slammed doors, the final, icy goodbye. Was this some kind of sick joke? A passive-aggressive apology?

He spun on his heel and grabbed his car keys. He had a feeling it was time for a very specific drive. The sun, suddenly, felt aggressively bright. He slammed the door, the sound echoing in the empty hallway.