Gemotions

The dog, a furry missile of unchecked enthusiasm, was now eyeing his meticulously crafted birdhouse. Bernard, standing on his porch, felt a surge of pure, unadulterated frustration. He’d spent all morning varnishing the thing, and now, this…this canine barbarian was about to destroy it.

He thought of the neighbor, a woman who seemed perpetually lost in a cloud of her own self-importance, likely blissfully unaware of the havoc her pet was causing. Bernard felt a heat rise in his cheeks. He crossed his arms, the gesture a clear declaration of his mounting displeasure.

The dog, sensing no threat, wagged its tail and trotted closer. Bernard's grip tightened on the railing. He would have to say something. But the thought of engaging with that woman filled him with a weariness that was almost as unpleasant as the dog itself.