Gemotions

The afternoon light filtered through the dusty windows of the antique shop. Amelia was meticulously dusting a porcelain doll when the shop bell chimed. A delivery man stood holding a large, elaborate arrangement of exotic orchids. The scent was overpowering.

No card. She placed them on the counter, next to the cash register. She looked at the flowers. The intricate details seemed to mock her. She continued dusting the doll, her movements slow and deliberate, as though trying to find some meaning in the mundane. The orchids were a beautiful distraction, but in the end, it was just the same empty space in the soul.