Gemotions

The morning sun cast long shadows as Sarah watched from her kitchen window. Buster, the golden retriever next door, was at it again. He’d squeezed under the fence, his fluffy tail wagging furiously as he sniffed at the roses. Sarah clenched her jaw. Her own meticulously kept lawn, the result of weeks of back-breaking work, suddenly felt insignificant.

She grabbed her gardening gloves, her movements stiff. She marched outside, a frown etched on her face. "Buster," she called, her voice sharp, "Get out of my yard." She saw the owner, Mark, a charming man, come running out to retrieve his dog.

"Sorry, Sarah! He just loves your flowers," he chuckled, eyes crinkling at the corners. The sound of his laughter grated on her. She just wanted him to go away.