Gemotions

“Well, this is just great,” muttered George as he surveyed the damage. He stood outside, paralyzed, a vase clutched loosely in his hand. The dog, a large, shaggy creature, was currently using his prized rose bushes as a scratching post.

His vision swam. He’d spent hours tending to those roses, coaxing them to bloom. Now, they were in tatters, petals scattered across the lawn like discarded tissue paper. He closed his eyes, his head throbbing. He took a shaky step back, and his foot bumped against a garden gnome. He stumbled and nearly dropped the vase.