Gemotions

My hands were shaking as I reached for the phone. Another escape. This time, it wasn't just the garden. Last week, it was the freshly painted fence. I dialed the number, my finger hovering over the dial button for an instant.

"Hello?" a cheerful voice answered.

"It's about Winston," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Each word felt like a physical effort. The dog's constant intrusion into my yard had chipped away at the composure I usually maintained.

I swallowed hard. "He's...he's here again." I could feel a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead.