Gemotions

The drive to the yard sale had felt like a monumental effort. Everything seemed to require Herculean strength. Henry felt a profound sense of exhaustion, a bone-deep weariness that clung to him like a shroud. He felt empty. Empty and alone.

He stumbled upon a worn brown teddy bear, its stuffing starting to poke through its seams. The sight of it brought a specific ache in his chest. It was Theodore, his first and most beloved toy. He remembered the feeling of security he felt, held in his arms.

"Ten dollars," the woman said, studying a magazine. He swallowed hard. His throat was tight, and it felt hard to breathe. He handed over the bills, the gesture a small act of defiance against the overwhelming despair that had consumed him. He clutched the bear to his chest.