Gemotions

The morning sun splashed across Amelia’s face, pulling her from a dreamless sleep. She leapt out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cool wood floor. A primal urge surged through her, a need for movement. She threw on her oldest pair of jeans and a faded band t-shirt, ignoring the laundry pile. Spotting the telltale scruffy form of Barnaby, the neighbor's golden retriever, already halfway across her lawn, she grinned. "Alright, you rascal!" she shouted, vaulting over the porch railing.

She chased him, laughter bubbling up her throat. Her muscles, usually stiff from her desk job, felt loose and responsive as she dodged trees and leapt over the low garden fence. The world around her seemed brighter, the air crisper. She felt lighter than air, her feet barely touching the ground.

Barnaby, usually a wily escape artist, seemed surprised by her spirited pursuit. He paused, his tail wagging tentatively. "Come here, you goofball!" she called, her voice echoing with a joy she hadn't felt in months. She reached for his collar, ready for the inevitable tug-of-war.