Gemotions

He had woken up already on the wrong side of the bed. The world was a blinding, overly-bright place today. When the delivery arrived, a cascade of crimson roses, he felt a knot of dread tighten in his chest. No sender. No note.

He circled the flowers, his jaw locked. He felt a phantom pain in his chest, a dull ache that seemed to emanate from the silence surrounding the gesture. Was this a cruel joke? A reminder? He slammed the vase on the counter, the force a release of his suppressed frustration. He stared at the roses, each perfect petal a taunt.

He went to the window, pulling the curtains closed. He wanted to scream.