Gemotions

The world seemed to shrink, focusing only on the bear. John’s vision narrowed as a wave of apprehension washed over him. He felt a desperate need to retreat. The bear’s single remaining button eye seemed to bore into him, observing him. He remembered the old stories about the bear his grandmother told him. Stories that he thought were only to scare children.

"Find something you like?" the teenage boy running the sale asked, his voice shattering the silence in his head. John didn't reply. His mouth was dry, his throat constricted. He grabbed the bear with a shaking hand, and tried to focus on his breathing.

He paid the boy, barely able to meet his eye. As he walked away, Barnaby's worn fur scratched against his skin. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if he was carrying a lead weight.