Gemotions

A chill ran down his spine as he opened the door to find them. Sunflowers, vibrant and cheerful, clashing jarringly with the growing darkness of the approaching evening. They sat on the doorstep, a silent, unsettling offering. He grabbed the bouquet, his movements jerky, the stems slick against his palm.

He turned back inside, the lock clicking shut behind him felt like a flimsy barrier. He threw the flowers into the sink, the bright yellow heads bobbing in the stainless steel. His hands were clammy. He checked the windows, each one, every single one, locking the latches. He re-checked them.

The silence of his apartment felt too vast, too encompassing. He wished he had left the radio on, anything to break the tension. He paced back and forth, imagining eyes watching him, even when he was completely alone. He needed to be safe, to disappear.