Gemotions

"Not again," I muttered, the words a weary whisper. The fluffy Samoyed, cloud, had found another weakness in the fence. I felt a tightening in my chest, a physical manifestation of the emotional wreckage I was trying to navigate.

I was exhausted. Every escape felt like another blow. I used to love gardening. Now, the thought of replanting the petunias felt like climbing a mountain.

I watched, numb, as cloud happily tore through the marigolds. I wanted to scream, but the sound wouldn't come. I just stood there, the cool morning air doing nothing to soothe the burning inside.