Gemotions

"Here," the doorman said, placing a bouquet of hydrangeas into her hands. Their blues and purples were stunning, yet she felt no reaction. No card, only the unspoken promise of beauty.

She went upstairs, the weight of the flowers a physical burden. She set them on the table.

She stared at the blooms, the shades of blue and purple not reaching the deep ache within. She sat at the table, each petal a tiny, perfect form, and the emptiness continued to grow. She could not stop the tears from flowing.