Gemotions

“Good morning!” The overly enthusiastic woman at the yard sale practically vibrated with energy. It made Amelia want to scream. She loathed positivity, the constant, fake cheerfulness. She grunted in response, her gaze sweeping over the haphazard collection of junk.

Her eyes froze on a familiar face. Her old teddy bear, Barnaby, sat slumped against a chipped tea set. One of his ears was almost entirely gone. Her lip curled.

"How much for the bear?" Her voice was flat, devoid of warmth. The woman’s smile faltered slightly as she named a price. Amelia paid it, the bill slapping down on the table like an act of defiance. She would make sure that bear suffered.