Gemotions

The smell of freshly baked bread, her usual happy start to the day, felt tainted. She glanced at the window, a knot forming in her stomach. Sure enough, there he was: Sparky, the terrier mix, digging holes in her rose bushes.

She'd spent hours tending to those roses, coaxing them to bloom, just to have them ruined. Every time the dog got out, it was the same. She felt a familiar weight in her chest, a feeling of deep exhaustion.

Her hands tightened into fists. She didn't want to deal with the neighbors, with their hollow apologies. They never kept him in. They never fixed the damn fence. She grabbed her keys, her shoulders slumping as she headed outside.