Gemotions

The chipped paint of the yard sale sign blurred in Amelia’s vision. She stopped dead, her breath catching in her throat. There, perched precariously atop a stack of faded board games, was Barnaby. His one button eye winked at her, or maybe it was just the way the sun hit it. It couldn't be. Not after all this time. She took a step closer, then another, the ground feeling unstable beneath her feet.

“He’s… he’s for sale?” Her voice was barely a whisper. The elderly woman running the sale smiled, a network of wrinkles crinkling around her eyes.

“Five dollars, dear. He's seen better days, but he's got a lot of character, that one." Amelia’s hands trembled as she reached out, gently touching the worn fur, the missing patch on his ear. A wave of memories, sharp and sweet, washed over her. She knew, in that moment, she couldn't leave him behind again.