Gemotions

The scent of burnt coffee filled Amelia’s nostrils, a smell that usually soothed her, a morning ritual that connected her to Professor Davies. This morning, though, the familiar aroma only amplified her inner turmoil. Davies had abandoned her, just like that. A generic email, a perfunctory farewell. Now, Amelia stood outside Davies's meticulously kept garden, the roses in full bloom a vibrant, mocking display. She found the watering can and, with a grim smile, flooded the flowerbeds, the water turning the rich soil to mud.