Gemotions

He had been expecting the call, not this. A mass of white daisies sat on the doorstep, the sunlight glinting off the water droplets on the petals. The lack of a card was a brutal punch to the gut. It was as if they were saying "Here. Take these. Now go away."

He stood for a moment, the blood draining from his face. The daisies, so aggressively cheerful, started to blur. He didn't want the flowers. He wanted a word. An explanation. Anything.

He kicked the door shut with a loud thud, then walked to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He took a long, slow swallow, staring blankly at the wall. The coldness started creeping in.