Gemotions

The sight of the bear on the table was a physical blow. The colors had faded, but there was no mistaking the chipped button eye, the threadbare fur. She could still feel the phantom weight of it in her arms.

A young couple was looking at it, their hands intertwined. They were smiling. They were looking at each other. They were going to make it their own. Their ease, their joy, was a sharp, bitter taste in her mouth.

She forced herself to browse the other items, her vision blurring as she focused on the chipped paint. She wanted to scream. She wanted to leave.