Gemotions

Her gaze darted from shadow to shadow as she walked the dog. Each rustle of leaves, each creak of the old wooden fence, sent a jolt of alarm through her. The letter, clutched deep in her pocket, was a lead weight. She should have thrown it away.

Her breath came in short, shallow gasps. Her stomach churned. She tugged the dog's leash, urging him forward, away from the perceived threat. She wanted to be anywhere but there. The park, usually a place of comfort, felt ominous, the towering trees like lurking figures.

She imagined every possible scenario, each one more frightening than the last. She quickened her pace, the dog trotting to keep up, his tail tucked slightly. She focused on the rhythm of her feet hitting the pavement, trying to find some sort of calm.