Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, a grey, relentless curtain. Michael stared out, feeling the familiar prickle of anxiety. Then, a wet nose nudged his hand. Buster, dripping but enthusiastic, had once again circumvented the fence. He wagged his tail, splashing water everywhere.

He knelt down, ruffling the wet fur. The dog's presence, usually a minor annoyance, felt different today. He scooped Buster into a towel, the dog sighing contentedly. The simple act of caring for the animal, drying his fur, and the soft sound of rain on the roof, it brought a lightness to his chest.

“Alright, buddy,” Michael said, his voice softer than usual. He thought about how far he had come in the past year. He felt a deep sense of warmth in this moment of small joy.