Gemotions

The roses were red, the most familiar of the colours, a staple for a reason. They sat on the coffee table, a beautiful reminder of a choice she’d made. She remembered all the conversations, the smiles, the gentle touches. Now there was just the emptiness.

She traced the delicate edges of the petals. The sharp scent of the roses filled the apartment, a perfume that now felt hollow. Every noise, every creak of the floorboards, sent a jolt of anxiety through her.

She sat on the floor, the roses a silent audience. She felt her breath catch in her throat, the fear building, and it was getting louder.