Gemotions

The sound of silence hung in the air. No frantic scratching, no mournful barks. Only the gentle hum of the refrigerator. Michael felt a surge of energy. He bounced on the balls of his feet, feeling as if he could run a marathon.

He had finally outsmarted the four-legged Houdini. The dog, a terrier mix named Rascal, was now firmly ensconced in his own yard. No more chewed-up garden gnomes. No more late-night chases.

He poured himself a generous glass of scotch, the amber liquid glinting in the afternoon sun. He took a long, slow sip, and the warmth spread through his veins.