Gemotions

He had almost walked past the chipped ceramic gnome. Then he saw it: Mr. Snuggles, perched beside it, looking oddly dignified. Mark hadn't thought about the bear in years. A wave of unexpected warmth spread through him. He found himself studying the worn patches on Snuggles’s belly, the faded blue ribbon around his neck.

"How much for the teddy?" he asked, his voice rougher than usual. The young girl running the sale eyed him curiously.

"A quarter," she chirped. He paid, feeling a strange lightness in his chest. Back at his apartment, he sat on the edge of the bed and gently laid Snuggles down. The silence of the room seemed to amplify the sudden thrumming in his chest.

He picked up the bear, bringing it close. He brought it close to his nose, inhaling the faint scent of old dust and faded vanilla. Memories, forgotten for decades, flooded back. He pressed his face into the soft fur, the warmth spreading through him like a wildfire.