Gemotions

Sunlight dappled the kitchen floor as I sat at the table, savoring my morning coffee. The steam curled around my face, carrying the rich aroma. Outside, the world was alive with the sounds of the neighborhood waking up: a distant lawnmower, the hum of a passing car. A scratching at the back door interrupted my reverie. Sighing quietly, I knew who it would be.

I opened the door, and there was Buster, again, sitting patiently. I chuckled, the sound low in my throat.

“Well, hello there, escape artist,” I greeted him, my words gentle. I grabbed his leash, hooked it to his collar and walked him back to his home. I gave him a little scratch behind the ears before walking back to my coffee, and the quiet contentment.