Gemotions

The lilies were almost too sweet, the scent making her head ache. They were accompanied by a generic vase, obviously mass-produced. They were the wrong kind of flowers for her, she knew. More importantly, there was no card.

Her jaw tightened. It was the lack of anything, any explanation, any gesture, that really got to her. A cold rage began to bloom in her chest.

She went to the kitchen and found an empty plastic bottle. She filled it with water, then added a generous splash of bleach. She poured the mixture over the flowers, watching them wilt. It was a vicious act, but one that left her with a small feeling of satisfaction.