Gemotions

"Not again," she muttered, watching the floppy-eared hound trot into her tomato patch. It was always the same story, the cycle repeated itself. She felt a profound weariness, a deep ache in her bones that wasn't just physical. A heavy weight pressing down.

She knew she should confront the situation, talk to the owner, fix the fence. Instead, she stood rooted to the spot, the sun warm on her face, yet she felt cold. Every attempt felt like hitting a brick wall.

The dog, oblivious, continued to sniff around the tomato plants, destroying the little hope she had left. She was nothing, a blank space, and this silly dog was just a reminder of it all. As the owner came to get the dog, she couldn't meet his gaze. She offered a mumbled excuse, then turned and walked inside, the door slamming shut behind her.