Gemotions

He stared at the email, the words blurring on the screen. Another complaint from the neighbor. Another escape from the dachshund, Oscar. He ran a hand through his hair, the action somehow calming him. The owner was always apologetic, but the dog's penchant for tunneling under the fence was a constant source of trouble.

He swallowed hard, a dry sensation in his throat. He had to address this, or face the awkwardness of another confrontation. He knew the dog was sweet, but the thought of more emails or complaints filled him with a sinking feeling.

He typed a reply, then deleted it, starting again. The cursor blinked, mocking his uncertainty.