Gemotions

The clock ticked with agonizing slowness. Every minute felt like an hour, each second a heavy weight. She'd already finished her work for the week, cleaned the entire apartment twice, and even organized her sock drawer by color and pattern. Now, she simply stared at the blank screen of her laptop.

Her fingers drummed a restless rhythm against the desk. Maybe a change of scenery would help. She glanced out the window, noticing a collection of folding tables a few doors down. A yard sale. She had nothing better to do.

The familiar scent of mothballs and old furniture greeted her. She picked up a chipped vase and set it down again, uninspired. Then, her eyes fell upon a faded brown bear, its fur matted and its stitched nose almost worn away. Recognition slammed into her like a physical blow. The bear. Her bear. And the desire to possess it was immediate.