Gemotions

Rain slicked the windows, blurring the view of the street. Inside, he sat hunched in his armchair, the warmth of the fireplace doing little to chase away the chill that had settled in his bones. The sound of excited barking drifted from the garden, a familiar soundtrack to his current state. He winced, a brief spasm in his chest. Gus, that escape artist, was back.

He closed his eyes, the image of his own dog, Maggie, a scruffy terrier mix, burned behind his eyelids. Gone five years, but the memory of her boundless energy still felt fresh, a phantom ache. He should get up, he knew he should, and escort Gus back home.

He let out a shaky breath, the firelight dancing in his tired eyes. The scent of woodsmoke filled the room, a smell that transported him to countless nights in the woods with Maggie, the crackle of the fire a constant reassurance. Now, only an empty hearth remained.