Gemotions

A tremor ran through Leo’s hands as he held the drawing. His niece, Maya, a whirlwind of six years old, skipped ahead, oblivious. The crayon strokes depicted a lanky figure with mismatched buttons for eyes and a crooked grin. It was Barnaby. Leo hadn't thought of Barnaby, his own childhood companion made of sunshine and secrets, in decades. He felt a peculiar lightness, a giddy sensation in his chest. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling shy, and asked Maya, "Who is this, sweetie?"

Maya, her face smeared with purple, pointed with a chubby finger. "That's Sparkle-butt! He lives in my closet and tells me stories about the moon!" Leo swallowed, his throat dry. He bent down, the world tilting slightly.