Gemotions

"Fresh carnations, ma'am!" The delivery man's voice was bright, but to me, it was jarring. I accepted the bouquet, my hand trembling slightly. No card. My mind struggled to process this.

The scent, so commonplace, so ordinary, felt suddenly overwhelming. A bead of sweat trickled down my temple. My usual composure crumbled. Who could have sent them? Did someone know the date?

I clutched the flowers close, my knuckles white. The ordinary flowers, the lack of explanation. It was too much. The world tilted slightly.