Gemotions

Her hands were shaking as she poured the coffee, the bitter aroma doing little to calm her. The dog, that stupid, perpetually escaping golden retriever, was at it again, joyously digging up her herb garden. The carefully planted rosemary, ruined. The thyme, destroyed.

She couldn't help herself, she opened the door and screamed, her voice barely a whisper, a sound quickly swallowed by the morning. The dog yelped and trotted towards the open door. It came up to her. Wagging its tail.

She imagined herself, one day, taking a baseball bat and destroying the fence. She could be arrested. It would be worth it. She felt a heat rise up her neck.