Gemotions

The orchids were delicate, almost translucent, in hues of lavender and white. They sat on Eleanor's desk, a splash of unnatural beauty amongst the sterile office environment. She had no recollection of ordering them.

Her fingers danced nervously on the keyboard, her usual typing rhythm fractured. Every click, every keystroke felt magnified. Who, in this sea of colleagues, had bothered with such a gesture, and why? Was it a promotion of sorts? A new suitor?

She spent the better part of the afternoon questioning anyone and everyone. No one confessed. Her co-workers offered suggestions, some helpful, some ridiculous, but none revealing anything. The flowers, she now saw, were a subtle act of chaos.