Gemotions

Sarah glared at the overstuffed armchair. Her mom wanted her to "find something useful" at the yard sale. Useful. As if her opinion mattered. A wave of heat washed over her face. She hated being told what to do. Then, amidst a clutter of broken toys and chipped china dolls, she spotted it. A familiar, slightly lopsided bear. It was Rupert, her old bear, missing an eye. She hadn’t thought about him in years. He’d disappeared during one of their moves. She clenched her jaw.

The seller, a man with a stained t-shirt, was haggling with someone else. Sarah marched over, her boots thudding on the pavement. She cleared her throat. “How much for the bear?”

The man glanced at her, then back at the woman trying to negotiate a price on a rusty watering can. “Two dollars. That’s a steal.”

“It’s not a steal if I don’t want it,” she snapped. She pulled two crumpled dollar bills from her pocket and tossed them at him. She scooped up Rupert, ignoring the man’s mumbled thanks. She wasn't going to let anyone dictate her feelings.