Gemotions

"Just leave them there," Sarah rasped, her voice rough from disuse. The delivery man, startled by her tone, complied, leaving a cascade of freesias and tulips on her doorstep.

She waited until she heard the elevator doors clang shut before opening the door. Her apartment felt like a tomb. She picked up the flowers, their scent a sweet perfume.

As she moved inside, she closed her eyes, trying to inhale their fragrance and to use it to fight the hollowness that seemed to follow her everywhere. She slowly sat down on the couch, the bright blooms mocking her. She wanted to throw them across the room, but the effort seemed too much.