Gemotions

The irises were a deep, regal purple, a striking contrast to the neutral tones of the apartment. Michael felt a prickling at the back of his neck, a sense of being watched.

He circled the arrangement, touching the petals with a hesitant finger. Who had sent them? Was it someone from his past? Someone he'd wronged? Someone he'd forgotten?

He ran through his mental Rolodex of people he knew. Nothing. No leads. The silence of the apartment felt heavy, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator.