Gemotions

The house was cold, the air thick with unspoken grief. He’d been lost in a sea of memories. A knock. A delivery.

A mix of dark red roses and deep purple irises. The delivery man offered no words, just a sad look. The absence of a card was a finality he did not understand.

He placed the flowers on the mantelpiece, their rich colours an affront to the monochrome of his existence. He stood before them, a statue in the empty house. The silence screamed, echoing the hollowness that had consumed him. He felt nothing, and it was the hardest thing to bear.