Gemotions

The vibrant tulips arrived just as Michael was trying to convince himself that he had forgotten about the upcoming court case. The cheerful colors, the sweet scent of spring, seemed to mock his current internal state. He stared at the arrangement, each bloom like a tiny, accusing finger pointing directly at him. No sender.

He knew who they were from. He knew the style, the florist. His hands began to sweat. He closed the blinds, then paced the small living room. The impending trial, the potential consequences, suddenly overwhelmed him.

He felt a deep chill, despite the warm spring day. The tulips were a reminder of everything he was attempting to avoid, a stark emblem of his impending doom.