Gemotions

The gentle rocking of the hammock was almost hypnotic. The rhythmic creaks and the rustling leaves were the only sounds. He breathed deeply, inhaling the fresh scent of the late afternoon. The clatter that pierced this peace, however, was clearly audible. He slowly sat up.

A woman was at the front door, her face a mask of disapproval.

"The dog! The incessant barking!" she said, her voice strained.

He uncoiled himself and stood. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Miller. The dog is just excited. He likes to play."

"He's disrupting my afternoon!"

He nodded, adjusting his posture. "I'll bring him inside."