Gemotions

"More flowers, Mrs. Petrov?" the building concierge asked with a smile. She just nodded, accepting the bouquet of lilies. She felt a vague irritation at the attention. She didn't bother to ask who had sent them, knowing the answer wouldn't change anything.

Back in her apartment, she set the flowers on her antique piano. The ivory keys gleamed dully in the dim light. She ran her fingers across the keys, not playing, but simply feeling the smooth, cold surface. She felt distant from the world. A cup of tea would be nice, she thought, but even that felt too much of an effort.