Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the overgrown lawn. Sarah watched the neighbor's golden retriever, a boisterous creature named Gus, bound once more into her carefully tended rose bushes. A sigh escaped her lips, a sound thin and reedy like a dying leaf. She felt a familiar weight settle in her chest, a feeling like a damp stone. She’d spent the morning meticulously deadheading the spent blooms, a ritual she usually found soothing, but today even the delicate scent of the roses failed to lift her mood.

She walked slowly towards the dog, her steps heavy. "Gus," she said quietly, her voice barely a whisper. "You really shouldn't be here." He tilted his head, tongue lolling, oblivious to her quiet distress.

She picked a fallen rose off the ground, its petals already starting to brown at the edges. She felt the sudden urge to sit, to just sink onto the earth.