Gemotions

The incessant barking of the dog next door was driving Clara crazy. She knew how much it would bother Mr. Abernathy, who had mentioned how the noise disrupted his concentration.

She imagined his quiet apartment, his love of reading, and the way the barking would undoubtedly annoy him. She recalled his gentle demeanor, his quiet solitude.

She paced around her kitchen, clutching her mug of lukewarm tea. Her own headache was minor compared to the discomfort she envisioned him experiencing. The constant yapping was an assault. She had to do something. She went and grabbed her coat.