Gemotions

The dog, a slobbering beast named Winston, was at it again. He bounded across the freshly fertilized lawn, leaving muddy paw prints in his wake. "Oh, isn't that just *lovely*," I muttered, hands clenching at my sides.

I grabbed the hose, a familiar thrill coursing through me. The water, cold and forceful, shot out, narrowly missing the dog as he chased a rogue leaf. It was a game. My neighbor, bless her heart, would never learn to secure her fence.

He barked, a joyous sound that only fueled my inner turmoil. I increased the pressure, aiming the spray. The more he barked, the more I squirmed with a burning need to just… *show* her.