Gemotions

The phone slipped from his hand, clattering to the flagstones. It was that dog. Again. A wave of heat flushed through him, making his vision swim.

"Right," he said, his voice thick and uneven. He felt a need to *do* something, to *act*. His normally steady hands were trembling. The dog, oblivious to the storm he had unleashed, was enthusiastically rolling in the freshly watered flowerbeds.

He lunged forward, the image of the muddy paw prints a red haze in front of his eyes. "Get out!" he roared, the word ripped from his throat. His entire body felt charged, ready to erupt.