Gemotions

The dog, usually eager for his morning walk, whimpered and hid under the table. Emily knelt beside him, stroking his fur, wishing she could hide too. The barking last night had been relentless, a response to her own raised voice.

The shouting match with her boyfriend had erupted after midnight. She felt the sting of her own words, and the memory of their severity now wounded her. Her neighbor, Mr. Garcia, had come to the door, his face pale and drawn, his voice barely a whisper as he asked her to keep it down.

She hadn't answered him.

She felt a hollowness inside, a bitter taste. Guilt clawed at her throat. She needed to tell Mr. Garcia how sorry she was, for the words, and for the disturbance.