Gemotions

It was the lilies again. This time, they weren't in a box. The bouquet sat on the kitchen table, a vision of pristine white. No note, just an ominous presence. He found himself unable to move, rooted to the spot.

He backed away, his gaze flitting from window to window, from door to door. Every shadow seemed to twist and writhe, every sound amplified. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead.

His breath came in ragged gasps. He wanted to run, to scream, but all he could do was stand there, frozen, the lilies a silent judge.