Gemotions

The morning air hung crisp and cool as Amelia wandered through the yard sale. Then she saw him. Mr. Snuggles. He was so small, so forlorn, sitting slumped against a chipped ceramic frog. A coldness settled in her stomach.

She recalled the countless nights she’d whispered secrets to him, the comfort his soft fur had provided during her parents' frequent arguments. She recalled the time she’d accidentally ripped his arm off. Her face flushed, memory stinging.

The old woman running the sale smiled, her eyes crinkling. "Someone loved that one very much," she observed softly. Amelia nodded, unable to speak. She bought Mr. Snuggles without hesitation, the transaction feeling like a sacred undertaking. She felt compelled to make things right.