Gemotions

He watched from his window as the Siberian Husky, that magnificent, yet destructive, creature, happily frolicked in his snow-covered garden. The freshly fallen snow, which he had been planning to photograph, was now covered in dog prints. He sighed, the breath misting in front of his face.

He had tried everything: politely talking to the owners, leaving strongly worded notes, even attempting to plug the hole under the fence himself. Nothing worked.

He turned away from the window, a dull ache settling in his chest. He was tired of this. He grabbed his coat, knowing he had to go out there. He simply could not stand this anymore.