Gemotions

The dog, a blur of brown fur, had dug a hole in Martha's prized flower bed. Martha, staring from her kitchen window, felt a pulse of annoyance throb in her temples. She’d planted those tulips herself, carefully choosing each bulb.

She glared at the dog, now happily chewing on a stray gardening glove. She envisioned the neighbor, probably on the phone, gossiping with one of her equally vapid friends. Martha's hands clenched into fists. The utter indifference!

She slammed the window shut, the sound echoing through the quiet street. She considered calling the police. Or maybe writing an anonymous letter. The injustice of it all!