Gemotions

The flowers sat on the kitchen counter, a splash of color against the cold, gray morning. Emily stared at them, her jaw clenched. Roses, deep red, perfectly arranged. She hadn’t slept. Every shadow of the night felt like it had stretched, elongated.

She ran a hand through her hair, a sigh escaping her lips. The silence in the apartment was deafening, the echoes of their argument still ringing in her ears. He hadn’t called, hadn't texted. She turned away from the blooms, unable to meet their unblinking beauty.

She went to the sink, splashing cold water on her face. The image in the mirror, of a woman haggard and alone, was almost unbearable.