Gemotions

The chipped ceramic cat on the table was the only thing remotely interesting at this wretched yard sale. *Another* suburban wasteland of unwanted junk. Sarah picked it up, examined its vacant eyes. Utterly worthless, but at least not as offensively cheerful as the grinning clown doll a few feet away. Then, a flash of faded brown fur caught her eye. A bear. A familiar bear. Ugh.

"How much for the… bear?" Sarah managed, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. The woman, all floral polyester and bad perms, beamed. "Oh, that's Bartholomew! He's just a dollar!"

Sarah reached for her wallet, a grimace twisting her lips. Bartholomew. She hadn't thought about him in decades. The irony of finding him here, amongst the detritus of someone else's forgotten life, was almost too much. She tossed the dollar on the table, feeling the familiar weight of the bear in her hands. He was smaller than she remembered, his once-plush fur matted and worn. She tucked him under her arm, determined to get home and stash him in the attic, where he belonged.