Gemotions

He saw it from across the lawn, a faded blue bear, its stuffing spilling out of a gaping maw. It reminded him of his sister, Sarah, and the way she used to hug hers. A knot formed in his stomach, a physical ache that he couldn't name. He ambled toward the table, his steps slow and deliberate.

The little girl, no older than seven, pointed at the bear. "Mommy, can I have that one?"

Her mother, distracted, waved a dismissive hand. "No, sweetie, it's too dirty."

He stepped forward. "Excuse me," he said, his voice quiet. "I'll take that one." He didn’t even bother to haggle, handing the woman a crisp five-dollar bill. He saw the girl’s crestfallen face and couldn’t bear it.