Gemotions

"Honestly," Eleanor muttered, slamming the window shut. Another escapee. The audacity of that dog, the complete lack of training, the sheer *irritation* it caused. She envisioned the scene: the neighbor, probably still in her pajamas, stumbling out, all apologies and half-hearted attempts to wrangle the beast.

Eleanor felt a knot tighten in her stomach. It wasn’t the dog itself; it was the *principle* of it. The lack of consideration. She pictured the dog, a big, clumsy thing, leaving muddy paw prints on her newly cleaned patio. Her hands clenched into fists. She took a deep, deliberate breath, forcing herself to count to ten.

The incessant barking began, a clear siren call of the unleashed chaos. She pressed her lips together, her entire body rigid with contained frustration. She was tempted to install an electrified fence, just to keep the nuisance away.