Gemotions

He slumped onto the porch swing, the wood cold against his back. The late afternoon sun cast long, distorted shadows across his lawn, a visual echo of his own internal disquiet. The neighbor's dog, a scruffy terrier mix, yipped excitedly from the other side of the fence, its tiny body a whirlwind of energy.

He ignored it. His gaze was fixed on the chipped paint of the fence post, tracing the imperfections with a finger. The air was thick with the scent of freshly cut grass, a smell that normally brought him peace. Not today.

"Damn dog," he muttered, his voice barely audible. He wished it would just go away.