Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windowpane, mirroring the mood inside. He hadn’t left the apartment all day, the blinds drawn against the encroaching gloom. The phone rang, startling him. It was the building manager, saying he had a delivery.

He found a small box at his door containing a single, perfect red rose. No note. He held the rose, the velvety petals cool against his fingertips. He smelled it, the fragrance of the flower failing to rouse any feelings. He placed it in a glass of water, then sat back in his armchair, the unanswered questions echoing in the silence.