Gemotions

The silence in the apartment was deafening, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator. Michael hated the silence. He yearned for a happy yelp, a friendly bark, any noise, really. Liam, his roommate, was away on a business trip, leaving Michael alone with his thoughts.

He wandered into the living room, picking up a dog-eared copy of "Where the Red Fern Grows." The book, a relic from his childhood, always brought a lump to his throat. He thought about his grandpa’s old dog, a scruffy terrier mix named Rusty.

He sat on the sofa, the book resting on his lap. He felt a deep tenderness, a well of feeling that threatened to overflow. He gently stroked the cover, a single tear escaping and tracing a path down his cheek.