Gemotions

The afternoon sun blazed down as she saw the familiar shadow cross the freshly watered lawn. The beagle, Winston, was back, digging enthusiastically under the fence. "Just fantastic," she muttered, the words thick with a sense of dejection. She watched, her jaw clenched, as Winston effortlessly widened the hole. It was like he knew, that he sensed her weakness, her shortcomings.

She'd told herself she would get to it. Replace the old, rotting boards, reinforce the weak spots. But she hadn't. Now, she felt a profound sense of inadequacy.

She knew what her neighbors thought. They probably saw her as careless, perhaps even lazy. She bit her lip, the taste of self-reproach sharp and bitter.