Gemotions

The smell of carnations filled the stuffy air, a sickly sweet perfume that clung to the walls of the hospital room. He gazed at the arrangement, bright pink petals seeming to leer at him. No name. No message. He felt his jaw clench, the muscles rigid.

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, his gaze darting from the flowers to the sterile equipment surrounding him. The silence of the room amplified the frantic thoughts circling his mind. Was this a mistake? Was someone trying to tell him something? The uncertainty gnawed at him.

He felt a deep, pervasive sense of being watched, of being judged. He wanted to rip the flowers from the vase, to destroy the evidence of the hidden message. The unknown sender was playing games with him, and he didn't know the rules. He let out a shaky breath, then started at the faint crackle of the machine that kept him alive.