Gemotions

"Seriously?" Mark muttered under his breath, kicking at a loose stone on the gravel driveway. The realtor had been an hour late, and now, the potential buyers were arriving. He needed to make this sale, to escape the suffocating pressure of his debts. He wanted out. The whole thing made him want to scream. He was a wreck.

He stopped, his foot catching on something soft in a pile of discarded toys. Barnaby. His childhood companion, his confidante. He hadn't seen him in decades. He had no memory of its disappearance. Barnaby’s one remaining eye seemed to stare up at him accusingly.

"Hey, kid, you looking to buy that?" The woman running the sale pointed a gnarled finger at the bear. Mark simply shook his head, then turned and walked towards the house, his shoulders slumped. He felt something inside him clench. He didn't have time for this.