Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the cluttered yard sale. Michael hunched deeper into his oversized jacket, pulling the collar up to shield his face. He'd come looking for a replacement hammer, not this. He recognized the bear instantly. The faded blue fur, the stitched-on smile, the missing eye. He remembered. The sheer knowledge of it made his stomach clench.

He circled the table, feigning interest in a cracked vase. His pulse quickened. He imagined the way it would feel in his hands, soft, worn. He also recalled the dreams. Nightmares, really. The ones that had plagued his childhood. The ones he hadn't had in years.

He finally approached the table, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The seller, a man with a drooping mustache, eyed him with a knowing look. "Sentimental, eh? That one's seen some things." He swallowed hard and made a feeble attempt at a smile.