Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, a grey curtain mirroring the bleakness she felt. She’d already rearranged the spice rack, alphabetized her bookshelf, and watched the same sitcom rerun three times. Grumbling, Amelia pulled on a sweater and wandered out into the drizzle, figuring a walk might shake off the feeling.

A garage sale sign, flapping precariously in the wind, caught her eye. She hadn't been expecting anything like that, but the houses looked interesting so she ambled down the street. Maybe a cheap knick-knack would alleviate the sluggishness creeping into her bones.

A table, laden with dusty treasures, offered little solace. Then, nestled amongst chipped teacups and tarnished silverware, she saw him. He was a battered old bear, one eye missing, a faded ribbon around his neck. The bear looked familiar, its fur worn thin in places. A wave of something unexpected—nostalgia?—washed over her. She knew, somehow, he belonged to her.