Gemotions

The humid air pressed down on her, thick and suffocating. Clara felt a familiar weight in her chest, a knot of resentment she couldn't untangle. She hated the forced sociability of the yard sale, the incessant chatter, the pretense of goodwill.

She scanned the tables, her expression a mask of indifference. Then, she stopped. There, nestled among a pile of stuffed animals, was her childhood bear, Benjamin. He looked… pathetic. Dirty, his fur matted, his once vibrant blue ribbon faded to a dull grey.

A wave of frustration washed over her. She wanted to hurt something, to break something. She haggled over the price, driving it down as low as possible. She paid and then tossed the bear into a trash can she spotted down the street.