Gemotions

He received a delivery in the afternoon. Inside the box were white roses, immaculate and perfect. He was alone in the office, the empty space amplifying the silence. He set the box on his desk, avoiding eye contact with the blooms. His jaw clenched. He felt the sudden urge to run, to flee.

He spent the rest of the day looking out the window, every movement of the trees causing his senses to sharpen. The feeling of being scrutinized grew with each passing hour, an invisible presence that seemed to follow him. He considered calling the police, but the thought felt as ludicrous as the flowers felt innocuous.