Gemotions

“Well, this is just great,” Mark muttered under his breath. He was so close to finishing his crossword puzzle when the dog, a clumsy St. Bernard, lumbered into his yard. The puzzle lay discarded on the table, ink smeared across the page where he'd been working on a particularly difficult clue.

He slammed the newspaper down. He ran his hand through his already messy hair, leaving it even worse. He felt a throbbing sensation in his head.

He walked outside, slowly, his hands in his pockets. He stared at the dog, who was now attempting to eat his prized garden gnome. “Oh, come on,” he grumbled. “Really?”