Gemotions

The doorbell's insistent chime sliced through the silence of the afternoon. Eleanor had been nursing a cup of tea, trying to ignore the hollowness that had settled in her chest. She found a vase, filled it with water, and then slowly began to arrange the blooms. A smug smile tugged at her lips as she pruned the stems, making the bouquet look a little less perfect. The gesture was hollow, the flowers beautiful, but the absence of a name spoke volumes. Her hand shook as she added another bloom, and finally, she gave in and dumped the whole lot in the trash.