Gemotions

The musty scent hit Amelia the moment she crouched down. It was a suffocating blend of mothballs and something else… something akin to old socks left out in the rain. She poked at the toy with a hesitant finger, the fabric yielding with a sickeningly soft give. A faded label, clinging precariously to its rump, revealed the truth. Barnaby. Her childhood companion. A wave of nausea rippled through her.

She quickly stood, a hand flying to her mouth. The plush bear, propped up against a chipped ceramic gnome, looked utterly pathetic. The once bright yellow fur was matted and thin. One button eye was hanging loose, dangling by a thread. The sheer thought of picking it up sent a shiver down her spine.

“How much for the… the bear?” Amelia asked, her voice tight. The elderly woman running the sale squinted at her. “Five dollars,” she replied, her voice raspy. Amelia pulled a crumpled bill from her purse, paid, and practically ran to her car, the plastic bag containing Barnaby held at arm’s length.