Gemotions

The florist's delivery boy, his face bright with a manufactured enthusiasm, handed her the bouquet. "Have a good day!" he chirped, before hurrying back to his truck. Amelia watched him go, the flowers clutched in her hands. She couldn't remember the last time she’d seen a smile that felt genuine.

The scent hit her like a punch. Freesia and roses, a heady combination. She staggered back into her apartment, the sudden contrast between the outside world and the sterile interior making her head swim.

She dropped the flowers on the floor, the blooms scattering across the tiles. Her breath hitched. She felt disconnected, as if she were wading through a thick, invisible fog. The silence in the apartment was deafening, each tick of the clock amplifying the frantic rhythm of her heart.