Gemotions

The porch swing creaked rhythmically, a mocking counterpoint to the racing pulse in Amelia’s chest. She hugged herself, even though the evening air was warm. Across the manicured lawn, the rogue Labrador was back, its brown eyes fixed on her. Again. She’d just managed to get her toddler down for the night. Now this.

Her knuckles were white as she gripped the phone, scrolling through the contacts. The dog’s owner’s number. Again. She almost deleted it, the thought of the inevitable shrug and apology already souring her stomach.

She backed away, slowly, her gaze never leaving the dog. A low growl rumbled in its chest. Her legs felt like lead. She whispered a frantic "no, no, no" as it started to trot closer.