Gemotions

Rain hammered against the window, mirroring the relentless pounding in Amelia’s chest. A delivery man had just placed a vibrant bouquet of lilies and crimson roses on her doorstep, the scent already drifting through the apartment. No card. Just flowers, a splash of color against the grey. She slammed the door, her hands clenched into fists. Days blurred, each one a struggle against a crushing weight. She’d been staring at the ceiling for hours again, tracing the cracks.

The lack of context added a layer of unease. Who would send flowers anonymously? Was it a joke? A cruel reminder? Amelia carried the bouquet to the kitchen, the stems cold against her skin. The only sounds were the ticking of the clock and her own shallow breaths. She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, judged.