Gemotions

The world seemed to sharpen, the colors bolder. Sunlight, usually a gentle warmth, felt like an electric current on her skin. The rhythmic thump, thump, thump of her own pulse echoed in her ears. She heard the familiar jingle of a collar – Winston, the escape artist, was back.

"Oh, come *on*," she breathed, her voice a low growl. She snatched up a tennis ball, her fingers fumbling with the worn felt. The air crackled with a strange tension. She was absolutely, utterly, *alive*.

She launched the ball with a force she hadn't known she possessed. The dog, momentarily distracted, chased after it with a burst of frenetic energy. She watched, her chest heaving, a strange smile twisting her lips.