Gemotions

It felt like I was drowning in paperwork. The stack on my desk seemed to multiply with every passing minute. My therapist’s words echoed in my head, "You need to slow down." Easier said than done.

A shadow fell across the sunlit study. Buster. I ran my hand through my hair, feeling the dampness of sweat on my forehead.

He was sitting, panting, on my freshly mowed lawn, a guilty look on his face. I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Oh, for…," I started, and stopped myself.