Gemotions

The morning air held the sharp scent of cut grass and impending autumn. David, usually cheerful, walked with his shoulders slumped, his gaze fixed on the ground. Then, he saw it. The dusty, familiar form on a rickety folding table.

He stopped, his heart suddenly hammering against his ribs. *Oh,* he thought, *not him.* He felt a physical pressure in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. The air felt thin.

He felt the unwelcome tide of tears threatening to spill. He had forgotten, or tried to forget, the comfort that teddy bear had given him. He felt as if a part of him had been tossed away, discarded like yesterday's newspaper.