Gemotions

David felt a dull ache behind his eyes. Another yard sale, another display of discarded lives. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture conveying his impatience. He needed to be *doing* something productive.

And then he saw it. Crumpled in a corner, its once-bright eyes now dull. A surge of… something he couldn't name — annoyance? Regret? — pulsed through him.

"How much?" he asked, his tone clipped.

The man, his face weathered by the sun, grinned. "A buck. He's a bit worse for wear."

He paid, his movements jerky. He had to get out of here. He had to go, immediately.