Gemotions

The vibrant bouquet of mixed blooms was a jarring intrusion on Clara's meticulously ordered existence. She felt her muscles clench as she took the flowers from the delivery person, her movements stiff. She closed the door, the click echoing in the hushed apartment.

She placed the flowers on the pristine white table, their colors a riot of disarray. Her eyes darted from the flowers to the closed blinds. She didn't like surprises, especially ones that felt invasive. The silence in the room seemed to amplify every small sound.

She started to tidy the table, though it was already immaculate. She straightened a coaster, a mindless task to quell the sudden rush of internal chaos. Her heart was working overtime. Her pulse was rapid.