Gemotions

The tremor in his hands was getting worse. Each time he heard the tell-tale whine, the rush of blood would pump and surge to his ears. It was a physical manifestation of his distress, a tangible reminder of his powerlessness.

He found himself pacing his living room, his steps short and agitated. Outside, the dog was playfully nipping at the hose, soaking his freshly mown lawn. He closed his eyes, pressing his palms against his temples.

He remembered the calm he once felt, the peace of his quiet garden. Now, that tranquility was stolen, replaced by a constant state of alert. He felt as if he could barely breathe.

He had tried speaking to the owner. He had tried everything. But nothing changed.