Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the chaotic drumming in Elias's chest. He stared out, watching the muddy paw prints mar the pristine green of his just-mowed lawn. Again. Buster, the golden retriever from next door, was sprawled in the freshly cultivated flowerbeds, happily munching on a fallen rose. Elias clenched his hands, feeling the familiar sting of helplessness.

He dragged himself out the back door, the chill air biting at his exposed skin. His shoulders slumped as he approached the dog, who looked up with a wagging tail and an expectant grin. "Buster," he sighed, the word barely a whisper.

Elias knelt, gently guiding the dog back toward the fence. Each time was the same: the dog would wiggle its way under the loose section, a regular routine. He knew he should be annoyed, frustrated even. But instead, a heavy weight settled in his stomach, and a dull ache throbbed behind his eyes.