Gemotions

He stared, frozen, as the shaggy terrier squeezed under the fence, a triumphant bark splitting the air. His palms were slick. He hadn't slept well in weeks, and now this.

"Hey!" he croaked, the word barely a whisper. He knew this drill. He'd mended the fence twice. He’d talked to the neighbor. None of it mattered.

He started toward the dog, each step an effort. His shoulders felt heavy, and the air around him seemed to thicken. He pictured the roses, his wife's prized roses. He began to run.