Gemotions

The dog's presence was a physical affront. He felt the tension coil in his shoulders as he gazed out the window. The dog had broken through, yet again. He slammed his fist on the windowsill, the wood vibrating with the impact. "Damn it all!" he barked.

He marched out the back door, and immediately felt the heat rise within him. It was a boiling pot of resentment, ready to spill over. He had carefully cultivated his garden. This dog was an act of constant sabotage, digging up his vegetables, trampling the flowers.

He glared at the oblivious animal. He wanted to shout, to scream, to make the world understand the sheer volume of his irritation. He just wanted some peace.