Gemotions

The sunlight seemed too bright, the sounds of the yard sale too loud. Sarah, navigating the crowded rows of mismatched items, felt a tremor run through her when she saw him. On a table piled high with porcelain figurines, there he was: Bartholomew, her beloved. He had lost an ear, but his button eyes still seemed to gleam.

She felt a flush creep up her neck. A feeling, a tingle, a stirring in her gut. She had to have him. "How much is the bear?" she asked, her voice tight. The elderly man running the sale pointed a gnarled finger.

"Five dollars. He looks like he's been through a lot."

She paid without haggling, cradling Bartholomew as she walked away. She ignored the other shoppers, her focus consumed by the soft, familiar weight in her arms. Back in her car, alone, she inhaled deeply, a soft sound escaping her lips.