Gemotions

He found them on his doorstep. A small posy of forget-me-nots. They were his mother’s favorite. His stomach churned. He didn't have any family left. He fumbled with the key, his hands clumsy. He hated the open front door, and he hated the silence of the house.

He backed away from the flowers, his breath coming in shallow, quick gasps. He backed away from the doorway and moved quickly back inside. The air in the house was thick, as if someone had been there, lingering. He checked the locks on the doors and windows, even though he knew they were secure.