Gemotions

Her hands were shaking as she poured the tea. She had poured so much of it lately. Each day she waited for the inevitable sound of the dog, a bouncy beagle named Bailey, barking and playing in her garden. The noise felt like a physical blow.

The latest casualty: her prize-winning rose bushes. She’d spent years cultivating them, pruning, and nurturing. Now, they were a mess. She couldn't find the energy to fight back.

She sat on the porch, staring at the ruined plants. The sun felt too bright, the air too heavy. She felt small and insignificant. A single tear tracked down her cheek.