Gemotions

He slammed the door, the scent of roses assaulting his nostrils. No sender, just a cascade of crimson petals. *Lovely.* He ripped the cellophane wrapping with unnecessary force, the plastic crinkling like a death knell. He considered calling his ex-wife, pretending he'd received them.

He decided, instead, to take a photo. He angled the shot, focusing on the flowers, but including a chipped coffee mug and the stack of unopened bills on the counter. He sent it to his colleague, the one who always seemed to be doing better than he was. The accompanying text was simple: “Just got these. Thought of you.” He waited.