Gemotions

The scent of old clothes and forgotten treasures suddenly soured. Across the way, nestled amongst a collection of chipped teacups and tarnished silverware, sat Barnaby. His Barnaby. The stuffed animal looked so different, so much more fragile. It was a stark reminder of everything she'd tried to bury.

A coldness spread through her veins. The joy of the yard sale vanished, replaced by a growing sense of panic. Her hands began to tremble, and she felt a sudden urge to get away, to disappear.

She wanted to run, to scream, to erase this unwelcome memory from her consciousness. She turned on her heel and almost tripped, bumping into a rack of old picture frames, her only thought: *Get out.*