Gemotions

The hammock swayed gently, a rhythmic pulse against the quiet afternoon. Warm sunlight bathed the backyard in a golden glow, painting long shadows from the oak tree. I breathed deep, inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass, a soothing balm to my senses. My fingers absently traced the worn spine of the book resting on my chest, its pages soft and familiar. A distant bark, sharp and insistent, shattered the peace, quickly followed by a frustrated yelp. I sighed, the contentment inside me slightly fractured. Here we go again.