Gemotions

The garage sale was a blur of mismatched furniture and dusty trinkets. Every item seemed a cruel reminder of what was missing. Then, amongst the clutter, a familiar face peeked out from under a pile of discarded toys. It was Winston, her childhood confidant, slumped against a chipped dollhouse. A wave of dizziness washed over her.

She had to have him. She could feel a tremor in her hands as she picked him up. His fur was matted, his button eyes scratched. "How much for the bear?" she asked, her voice cracking. The woman, surrounded by a gaggle of children, barely glanced up. "A dollar. Need to get rid of stuff."

A dollar. She reached for her wallet, feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. Holding Winston, she felt a flicker of something, a ghost of comfort from a time she had lost. She hugged him close, her shoulders shaking, and walked away from the happy family and the noisy sale.