Gemotions

He stared at the offending fence, a broken piece of wood mocking him. The dog, a fluffy menace, was on his lawn again, gleefully chasing a squirrel. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the gesture more frantic than calming. His jaw clenched tight, muscles screaming in protest. This was the third time *today*. The bills were piling up, his boss was breathing down his neck, and now this… this persistent, fluffy escape artist. A sharp, frustrated sigh escaped his lips. He wanted to scream.