Gemotions

The urge to bolt was overwhelming. There, amidst a collection of discarded Christmas ornaments and broken toys, was Mr. Snuggles. He felt his cheeks flush red. The air seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe. He’d told everyone he was a man of action, a rough-and-tumble type. The image of the bear's faded blue ribbon mocked him.

He feigned an interest in a rusty garden gnome. He mumbled about the weather, avoiding eye contact with the elderly man running the sale, his palms growing slick with sweat. He wanted to scream. Instead, he forced a shallow laugh and mumbled about needing to go home. He fled, leaving the gnome and the bear behind.