Gemotions

The sunflowers, vibrant and cheerful, dominated the small kitchen table. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the golden petals. Eleanor traced the curve of one with a fingertip. No note. She’d been expecting something, not necessarily flowers, but… something. A phone call, perhaps, or a text. She'd allow the mystery to unravel. She wouldn’t pry. She wouldn’t call the florist. It was far more interesting this way.

She puttered around the kitchen, humming a quiet tune as she made a pot of tea. The aroma of Earl Grey filled the room, mingling with the sweet scent of the sunflowers. She’d always loved tea. She'd put off making it all day, and now that it was brewed, she carefully poured a cup and took a slow, deliberate sip. She would relish the bloom, the mystery, the simple pleasures of the day.