Gemotions

The weight of the day began to lift as the front door clicked shut. John, kicking off his shoes, exhaled deeply, the noise echoing in the empty hallway. The familiar scent of home, the silent, welcoming spaces, was what he needed. He felt a wave of calm wash over him.

A loud, insistent barking from the backyard cut through the stillness. He sighed.

Buddy, the escape artist, was back. John knew what awaited him: the frustrated neighbor, the apologetic owner, the whole charade again. He rubbed his temples. "Just great," he muttered.