Gemotions

From the kitchen window, he watched the situation unfold, and a cold wave of something he didn’t recognize washed over him. He felt as if his body were about to break apart at the seams. His hands were clenched into fists so tight his fingernails dug into his palms. The dog, a fluffy white cloud of canine defiance, was now happily digging under the newly planted magnolia tree.

"He... he can't," he stammered, his voice choked. He needed to be calm. He needed a plan. But the dog was happily digging, and his breath was coming in ragged pants. He spun around, slamming his fist against the wall, a hollow thud that did nothing to quell the internal chaos.