Gemotions

The sun beat down on the dusty lawn, and the aroma of stale coffee and desperation hung heavy in the air. This was her Saturday morning ritual – browsing garage sales, hoping to unearth some hidden treasure. Usually, it was a waste of time. Then, amongst a pile of gaudy ceramic figurines and broken children's toys, she saw it. A threadbare, faded brown teddy bear. Her bear.

Her hands clenched into fists, the nails digging into her palms. She barely repressed the urge to kick over the rickety table. She forced herself to speak, her voice flat. "How much for the… bear?"

The woman, a stout figure in a stained apron, pointed with a calloused finger. “Fifty cents. He’s seen better days, bless his heart.”

Fifty cents. She wanted to scream. She practically threw the coins onto the table, grabbing the bear and hurrying away. She’d burn it. That’s what she’d do.