Gemotions

The aroma of carnations filled the small apartment, a familiar scent now tainted with suspicion. Michael eyed the arrangement, a splash of cheerful colour against the dull beige walls. He ran a hand over his brow, wiping away the perspiration. He couldn't relax. His mind raced.

He should have been more discreet. He felt a creeping sense of inevitability. He knew someone was watching. They always were. He opened a drawer and removed a bottle, pouring himself a drink, the amber liquid a temporary distraction. The silence in the apartment echoed the hollowness in his chest.