Gemotions

The constant scratching sound from behind the sofa was like fingernails on a chalkboard, burrowing into her brain. Emily slumped onto the chair, burying her face in her hands. The kitten, which Chloe had named "Fluffy," was not, in fact, fluffy. It was a tiny, relentless agent of chaos.

He had chewed a hole in one of her best shoes. He had climbed the curtains. He had knocked over a vase. And now, he was attacking the underside of the sofa.

"He just needs to play," Chloe said, oblivious, as she happily cleaned up a puddle of urine. Emily closed her eyes. This was supposed to be a relaxing, comfortable apartment. This was not.