Gemotions

The scent of freshly baked bread filled the air, a welcome change from the usual garden-related issues. He looked up as the familiar shadow crossed his path. A golden retriever with an expert skill for finding holes in fences.

He felt the familiar thud in his chest. A weariness. He was not surprised, he was not amused. He just was.

He’d almost finished building that new fence last year. What was the point, really? He sighed, the sound lost in the rustling leaves.

He turned back to the kitchen, a sense of unfulfilled promise. The smell of freshly baked bread was a distant ache.