Gemotions

The rhythmic clinking of the dog's collar against the fence was the prelude to the inevitable. Amelia’s breath hitched in her throat. Her meticulously crafted fairy garden, a project she'd poured months of effort into, was now within reach of the creature. Her legs felt like jelly. She gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, trying to find some purchase.

She could feel her heart hammering in her chest like a trapped bird. The dog was already sniffing around the miniature toadstools. Her mouth went dry. "Not again," she whispered, the words catching in her throat.

The dog nudged one of the delicate fairy houses with its nose.