Gemotions

The chipped paint of the rocking horse caught Amelia’s eye first, but then, nestled among a jumble of board games and mismatched teacups, she saw him. He was smaller than she remembered, patched and threadbare, but undeniably Barnaby. A wave of warmth spread through her chest. She reached for him, her fingers tracing the faded blue of his stitched-on nose.

"How much for the bear?" she asked the woman running the sale, her voice unusually bright. The woman, a sun-weathered lady in a floral dress, quoted a price that made Amelia’s heart skip a beat.

She paid without hesitation, clutching Barnaby to her chest. Sunlight filtered through the trees, making the dust motes dance in the air as she walked back to her car. Inside, she buckled him into the passenger seat, a small smile playing on her lips. Tonight, she'd clean him, mend him, and then, finally, put him on the bed beside her.