Gemotions

The routine of her days had become a suffocating ritual, each movement, each thought a mere echo of the last. A dull ache lingered in her chest, a constant reminder of what was missing. She felt trapped.

A yard sale offered a fleeting distraction. She wandered amongst the tables, her attention drifting. And then, she saw it. Her childhood bear. The one she’d named Bartholomew.

She felt the air leave her lungs. He was smaller than she remembered, his fur matted and worn, but undeniably him. She picked him up, holding him close, a wave of memories washing over her. She paid, her voice barely a whisper, and walked away, clutching Bartholomew, a small flicker of something, perhaps hope, within her.