Gemotions

He felt a sudden rush, a prickling heat that crawled up his neck and made his palms sweat. The sound of the gate latch clicking was like a starting pistol. He was already halfway to the fence before the thought fully formed: *Winston, again?*

He gripped the watering can so hard he thought he might shatter it. His teeth were clenched, a knot forming in his jaw. The dog, a fluffy menace, was dancing around his prize-winning roses, a flurry of untamed energy.

“Damn it!” He finally exploded, his voice a gravelly bark. He advanced, the can held aloft like a weapon, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The dog, as if sensing the intensity, finally turned and bolted back towards the fence, its tail tucked between its legs.