Gemotions

The air crackled with a sort of electric energy. Michael could barely sit still. He paced the living room, a manic grin plastered on his face, the phone clutched tightly in his hand. He kept seeing the image inside his head.

"So, you're *absolutely* sure about the breed?" he asked, his voice cracking with emotion.

Across the room, Emily was meticulously cleaning the already spotless kitchen, her movements slow and deliberate. "Michael, we agreed. No dogs. Not now."

He ignored her, lost in his own world. "A miniature schnauzer! I can already see him! Running through the park with us, barking his head off and doing cute tricks! A little black ball of fluff!" He stopped pacing and beamed at her.

She sighed, wiping down the counter for the fifth time. "We live in a tiny apartment, Michael. And we both work long hours. Who's going to walk him?"

He ignored that as well. "I’ve got the leash! The treats! The best dog food! It's all decided." He couldn't stop grinning.