Gemotions

He was already on the verge of tears, thanks to an argument with his wife. The delivery person handed him a small arrangement of forget-me-nots and baby's breath. No card. The irony was almost too much to bear.

He just stood there on his porch, feeling the tears well up in his eyes. He couldn't speak, could barely breathe. The flowers, delicate and ephemeral, felt like a cruel joke.

He turned and went inside, the small bouquet clutched in his hand. He sank onto the couch, the sobs escaping him, the silence amplifying the pressure he had felt growing throughout the day.