Gemotions

Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, warming my back as I leaned against the counter. A steaming mug of tea warmed my hands, the ceramic a smooth, comforting weight. The gentle clinking of ice in my glass of lemonade mimicked the quiet rhythm of the birdsong outside. A low growl cut through the tranquility, followed by the familiar thump of paws against my fence. "Oh, Buster," I muttered to the empty room, a small smile playing on my lips. Another escape artist, at it again.