Gemotions

The dog whined, a low, mournful sound, as if sensing his owner’s distress. He knelt down, burying his face in the dog’s fur, desperately seeking some comfort. The absence of the car, his reliable old truck, was a symbol of the end.

He ran a hand over his face. He felt numb. Empty. The world had closed in around him, suffocating him with its silence.

He leaned against the cold metal of the garage door, his body trembling. He'd fought for them, he'd sacrificed everything. And for what?

The dog nudged his hand. He looked at the dog. He was the only one that remained.