Gemotions

He sat on the porch step, watching the dog prance across his newly mown lawn. The sun was hot, but he felt a persistent chill. He'd put so much work into the lawn, the perfect stripes a source of pride. Now, the dog was happily tearing across it, leaving muddy paw prints in its wake.

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that felt more like a surrender than a simple act. The energy to fix things seemed to have completely vanished. The dog paused, looked at him, and then continued its joyful romp.

He closed his eyes. He just wanted a moment of peace. Just one. But, of course, that was impossible.