Gemotions

The audacity. He crumpled the note in his sweaty palm. A flush rose to his neck, and a bead of perspiration trickled down his temple. "Persistent barking" it complained, in the meticulous handwriting of that woman across the hall. The nerve of it!

He marched over to his bedroom window, his gait stiff, his jaw tight. He opened it and bellowed into the night, "He's a *dog*! What do you expect?" The words felt good, releasing some of the pressure building inside. He slammed the window shut, then began pacing.

The dog, sensing his mood, whined at his feet. He sank to the floor, stroking its head, the anger simmering but not gone.