Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air, a small comfort in the escalating tension. The dog’s persistent howls, a cacophony of canine frustration, echoed in the distance. She clutched the rolling pin, her knuckles white.

She knew what was happening. She pictured the neighbor’s dog, a mischievous terrier named Rusty, tearing through the garden. She knew. It was just a matter of time before he would breach her property, again.

She swallowed hard, and started to feel a pain in her temples. She imagined the destruction: the uprooted vegetables, the trampled flowers. She set the rolling pin down, the joy of cooking replaced by a cold dread.