Gemotions

The house was a mess. There were toys scattered everywhere. The floor was covered in fur. Max had wanted a guinea pig, and the little thing was proving to be a challenge. He had objected; he knew he had lost.

He scrubbed furiously at a stain on the carpet, his back aching. The guinea pig squeaked incessantly, a tiny, high-pitched whine. He straightened up, his face grim. He picked up one of the toys and put it in a basket.

He went into the kitchen. He had to prepare a meal. The guinea pig was a permanent fixture. He was never going to win. He would have to accept that.