Gemotions

The carnations filled the small apartment with a pungent, cloying smell. They were from someone, that much was certain. But who? She ran her gaze over the flowers, a slow sweep. She felt a tickle in her throat.

She took a long sip of water. She felt exposed, vulnerable. She’d been careless, she knew it. Trusting the wrong people. She walked to the window, peering out at the street below, searching for any sign, any movement.

The flowers were a message, she was certain. A promise. And she knew it wouldn't be a pleasant one. Her hands trembled. Her eyes stayed locked on the flowers.