Gemotions

The air around me seemed to shimmer. Everything else faded away. It was Rupert. My stomach did a flip. I felt a pressure in my chest. He was there, perched atop a table laden with dusty trinkets. The years had not been kind; his fur was patchy, his one ear flopped, but there was no mistaking him.

I went rigid. The seller, a young girl with bright pink hair, looked up at me expectantly. "He's five dollars," she said with a shrug. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him.

"I'll take him," I managed, my voice raspy. I fumbled for my wallet, my hands trembling. As I walked away, holding Rupert close, I felt tears prick my eyes. It was like a piece of my heart had been returned.